Two Kings And A Queen
by Magali1
Summary: COMPLETE; Ten years to the day after his accident, Jason returns to Dillon to "celebrate", as well as get support from his best friends, only to find that things are not much different from the days after his accident. Alternates between Tim, Jason, Lyla POV; Jason/Lyla; Tim/Lyla; appearances by Coach, Tami, Buddy, Tyra, and others.
1. The Prodigal Friend Returns

_**A/N: **_ New fic; very, very, very serious fic alternating between Jason/Tim/Lyla POVs; kind of originated some time ago from a rewatch of the Pilot. The entire fic is essentially just Jason/Tim/Lyla with occasional appearances by the other characters; all flashbacks are in italics; very nervous about posting this fic, because it's probably the most "dramatic" and serious of the fics I have written for this site. Feedback of the constructive kind is appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Prodigal Friend Returns**

_"Ten years from now Street, good friends living large in Texas."_

**Ten Years Later**

**August 2016**

Damn, was the first thing Jason thought, rolling his chair from the rental car to the front porch steps. He looked up at the house, folding his hands in his lap, checking out the simple, old-fashioned farmhouse type layout and stone siding. He lifted his head when the door opened, smiling a little as his old friend leaned against the frame, holding a bottle of beer and looking like he just got out of bed.

Except his hair was much shorter, curling around his ears, but barely touching the collar of his shirt, he had a beard, and was considerably more aloof than he'd been even in high school. Conversations with him now lasted even shorter than they did before. Which was saying a lot.

He leaned back in the chair, not saying a word, waiting on his friend. It had been 10 years, he thought to himself. Almost ten years to the day when he went down on that field. First game of the season.

He lifted his chin. "Tim."

"Jason."

His lips quirked. "Are you going to invite me in or am I going to sit here waiting for you to ask me out on a date?"

Tim shrugged one shoulder, stepping backwards into the house. "Use the ramp."

He glanced sideway, seeing the ramp at the end of the porch. "You did that for me?"

"Actually, no, I did it for someone else, but she's not here."

Yeah, that's right, Jason thought, closing his eyes, feeling like an idiot. He rolled his chair around to the side of the house, moving on inside, feeling like he was in the middle of a mausoleum. He sighed.

There was more than one reason why he'd come back.

This was one of them.

The other consisted of the silly function that the town of Dillon, also known as Buddy Garrity, was putting on. Ten years since the Dillon Panthers won State! The last time too.

And other reasons.

He released another breath, pushing his chair deeper into the dark house. "You ever open curtains?"

"If I want to see the sun I go outside."

Good point. He glanced around the living room, beer bottles scattered every few feet, stacks of car magazines and mail…he was sad to see the familiar physical therapy equipment pushed into what was the dining area, but the table had been shoved into the kitchen.

Man, he remembered those days, he thought, fixated on one of the machines. He flexed his hand, the range of motion almost completely back in his right hand, thanks to several experimental stem cell surgeries. He glanced up when Tim returned, giving him a beer without a word.

He clutched it in his fists, tilting it back and pouring the beer into his throat, swallowing hard at the cheap taste. "Been awhile since I've had good Texan beer," he teased, smiling a little. He turned the chair around, his smile fading. Yeah, that wasn't going to work.

Tim fell back onto the couch, his arm draping over his eyes. "You come here to check on me?" he whispered.

"No."

"Why?"

Jason released a long breath, looking around again. He pulled his chair back, peeking into the kitchen. It was as messy as the living room, dishes piled in the sink, beer bottles and empty takeout bags all over the countertops.

He glanced back at his best friend. "You eating anything lately? Look pretty scrawny, when they introduce Big Tim Riggins at this thing Friday night, they might have to say Skinny Tim Riggins."

It barely got him a curve of a smile. "I eat fine. Thank you Mom."

"Just saying." He watched Tim for a few minutes more, rolling his eyes. Alright, he was done with this crap. Not like he expected a great big back-slapping reunion, but at least he expected something other than this zombie in front of him. "Come on Tim! Say something!"

Tim lowered his arm to his side, staring at him for a second. He shrugged one shoulder. "What do you want me to say?" he whispered. He sat up, leaning back against the couch cushions, taking a sip of beer. His eyes closed. "There's nothing to say."

There's more than a few things to say, Jason thought, his hands tightening on the wheels of his chair. He really couldn't believe this crap. He knew Tim wasn't in the best of places right now, but this was…he frowned, waiting a beat. He lifted his shoulders slightly. "Look Tim, I'm sorry about…before…"

"That's not about that," he said, getting up from the couch, walking by him and grabbing his keys. He gestured. "Come on. Let's go to Buddy's."

"The bar or his house? Because I'm thinking, judging by the emptiness of this house, we should go to…Buddy's house," Jason concluded. He lifted his eyebrows. "Am I wrong with that Tim?"

Tim fixated on him for a second, not saying anything. He finally turned completely, his hands on his hips. "Look Jay, I don't care about…about the jail thing. That's…ancient history."

It probably was, even though Jason wasn't sure he'd apologized enough. He still felt like crap when he thought about it enough. Of course, you could blame yourself for just about anything if you thought about it hard enough.

He sighed, his eyes closing slightly. "We're not…" He glanced back at him, smiling a little. At least enough to make his eyes crinkle. It wasn't happy though. It was…Jason thought maybe it was more ironic than anything. "It's been six weeks, okay Jay? That what you wanna' hear?"

"I don't want to hear anything, what I want to know is what happened."

"She left, that's what happened." He smiled again, gesturing towards the wheelchair, whispering. "Maybe if you were born that way, your parents would have divorced before you were five too."

Divorce.

Jason hurried after him as Tim walked towards the front door. "Excuse me? What did you just say?"

"The big D! Yup. It's happening Street."

"Excuse me? Six weeks and you guys are divorcing?"

"Yeah, well when the girl only marries you because she's knocked up, that's kind of what usually ends up happening, you coming or not?"

Jason rolled his eyes, lifting his hands in the air. "Where are we going?"

"To Buddy's!"

"The bar or his house?"

Tim leaned against his open truck door. He looked away and then back. He shrugged again. "Does it matter?"

Good Lord. Jason turned his chair, rolling down the ramp, glowering at him. "You have to shut the door."

"Fine."

He waited for Tim to lift him up into the front seat before he allowed himself to smile a little. They had a lot to get through. He leaned his arm out the open window, feeling the pleasant, cool afternoon breeze flowing through the open windows.

They were driving into town, but Jason still wasn't sure where exactly they were going. He glanced sideways, Tim's attention focused on the road. "Just like old times, huh Riggins?"

Tim sighed, his voice quiet a moment later. "If you've come back to relive old times Jay, I'm going to be a sorry disappointment." He turned his head a little, his aviator's shielding Jason from really seeing what he was thinking. "It's just ten years Street? What's the big deal?"

He turned down another road, heading towards a subdivision.

They sat in complete silence, with just the open windows and the sounds of the road on either side of them.

Tim cleared his throat after a second, leaning on the door. "I'm not going to go inside."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

He chose not to say anything else; Tim would go inside with him.

He was going to fix this, he vowed. There might have been more than just the reunion to bring him back to Dillon, but he needed his best friend right now. He was going to fix how broken it had become between them.

And between his other best friend.

Ten years ago they were supposed to be living the perfect life. The three of them. Together. It had been ten years and they were still supposed to be living the great life.

Now look at them, he thought, sighing.

Why was it all falling apart?


	2. The Queen's Court

**A/N:** No reviews on the first chapter, so we'll try with this one, putting the storyline into some greater context. Hope people read this, it is one of my favorite pieces I've written. Enjoy to those are reading. Thanks :)

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Queen's Court**

"Come on baby," Lyla whispered, lifting Rue up out of her wheelchair, holding her in her arms. Rue whined, not liking this part of the day. She no longer cried, thankfully; she just patted her daughter's back, carrying her out of the living room and into the den, which she'd set up as the therapy room.

"Mama no," Rue protested, when Lyla set her down on the mat, going to get the braces. She let out a little cry, shaking her head. "No! I don't like them!"

"I'm sorry, but we have to do this," she said, returning to sit down next to her, reaching to attach the braces to Rue's legs. Then she had to do the exercises. Lyla tucked her hair behind her ear, closing her eyes for a second, sending up a brief prayer.

Although lately she was starting to wonder what the point of prayer was. Nothing ever was answered.

The doorbell rang, Buddy coming down the stairs. "I'll get it!"

Hopefully it was something to do with the Boosters, because she didn't want to deal with anyone right now. "Okay," she said, clapping her hands, smiling at Rue's upset face. "What do we do first Rue? We always do the right leg first."

There was a brief bit of commotion at the door; she heard her father exclaim in surprise and then start to laugh. There was a familiar laugh, followed by another equally familiar voice. Lyla lifted her head, looking back at Rue, who was trying to roll over to go find out what was happening. "Alright, we'll go see who it is," she laughed, picking her up. She reached for the arm cuffs. "Do you want to try these today?"

It was still a little early, but the doctor told them it couldn't hurt to get her to try to use the cuffs, so she didn't become entirely reliant on the chair. Lyla wasn't sure what she wanted anymore.

Rue let out another cry, but let Lyla put the cuffs around her wrists. She stood okay on her own, but they were still practicing with her on walking with them. She looked up, her eyes lighting up. "Daddy!"

"Look at you standing on your own!" Tim exclaimed, kneeling down and holding out his arms. "You want to try getting to me?"

Rue looked up at her, scared. Lyla was not happy at his appearance. He always derailed her. She didn't say anything, because they were trying not to fight in front of Rue. She bit her bottom lip and pushed one of the crutches forward and then the other.

"Go on baby," she whispered, holding her hand backwards to catch her if she fell.

Rue shook her head immediately, unwilling to bring the rest of her body forward. "No."

"Rue," she began, but Tim immediately interrupted, getting to his feet and going to take the crutches off. "Tim," she tried.

He ignored her, picking Rue up. "She's not ready," he snapped, holding her tight, Rue's face buried into his shoulder. He scowled, his voice soft. "You always push her."

"I always push her?" she snapped.

Buddy rubbed at his temple. "Lyla, Tim…not now."

Lyla turned back to their other visitor, smiling as best as she could, despite her emotions in the moment, torn between anger, frustration, and love. "Jason," she whispered, chuckling. She walked towards him, leaning down to hug him. "How are you? I didn't know you were coming today?"

"Yeah, I came in a couple days early." He returned the hug, pulling away and smiling, mouthing quietly. "How are you?"

I just want my life back, Lyla thought, blinking through a sudden prick of tears in her eyes. She smiled, forcing down the pain like she had the last three years. "I'm good. It's good to see you." It really was. They'd lost touch, like most people did after high school.

You always thought you'd be friends forever or boyfriend and girlfriend forever and then you just…suddenly you weren't anymore. You grew up and you got older and…and in some cases you could reconnect, but that was a once in a lifetime thing.

And even in those moments, she thought, glancing beneath her bangs towards Tim, who was carrying Rue out of the den and into the living room, her braces now off her legs. Even in those moments, you still wondered if it wasn't just that nostalgic side getting the better of you.

She tossed her bangs to the side, her hands going to her hips. "You want a drink? Daddy why don't you get Jason something to drink? I'll meet you outside on the back patio."

"Lyla," Buddy warned, seeing her go into the living room.

Jason looked between the both of them. "I'll just…go outside."

Lyla ignored them both, looking down at Rue, who was seated on the floor, holding up one of her new stuffed animals they got a couple weeks ago at the Austin Zoo. "Give a kiss," she ordered.

Tim obliged, kissing the hippo, stretched out on his side, his ankles crossed and his head propped on his hand. "Any more you want me to kiss?"

"Yes." Rue presented him with a tiger, a dog, and her beloved stuffed rabbit she'd had since birth. She hugged the rabbit, Floppy, against her chest, smiling. "I love you Daddy."

"And I love you Rue Bettina Riggins."

"No Bettina!"

Tim frowned. "Wilhemina?"

"No!" she giggled.

"Drusilla?"

"No!"

"Anastasia! That's your middle name!"

Rue squealed. "No!"

Tim screwed up his eyes and nose, pretending like he was thinking really hard about it. He reached over and grabbed her, lifting her into the air, laughing with her. "That's right, it's Ly…"

"Lyla!"

"Yes, just like Mommy."

Rue looked up, pointing. "Mommy!"

Tim tilted his head, looking up at her backwards. "Hey."

There was no denying it, he was a wonderful father, she thought, smiling in spite of herself. She nodded towards Rue. "Rue let's get you back in your chair."

"No!"

"Leave her out of the chair for a bit Lyla."

That left it open for her to hurt herself, she thought. Lyla didn't want to chance it. She shook her head. "In your chair."

"Mama no," Rue began to whine.

Tim, please, she begged, silently staring at him. Don't do this. Don't undermine me again, and again, and again with her. She closed her eyes, her hands on her hips. She hated always being the mean parent and he was the fun one.

Thankfully he recognized what she was trying to say and sat up, holding Rue on his hip as he climbed up to his feet. "Sorry kiddo, back in your chair, it's not bad, we'll get you some toys and Grandpa can play with you, I gotta' talk to Mom and your Uncle Jason."

When it was coming from him, Rue listened. Even at three-years old, she listened. "Thanks," Lyla whispered, seeing him set Rue into her hot pink wheelchair. He buckled her belt over her waist, so she wouldn't fall out and set her with her toys and her worktable, making sure she had crayons and paper.

Buddy came into the living room, looking at the both of them. "It'd be nice if the two of you could be civil for my grandchild's sake," he said, quiet. One of the only times Buddy Garrity was quiet, Lyla thought.

Tim nodded. "We are Buddy." They'd long dropped the 'Mr. Garrity.'

Buddy didn't seem too convinced, leaving them in the center of the room and going to Rue's play area. "What you got there sugar?"

"This Grandpa," Rue said, beginning to show him her drawings.

The two of them left the house, going out onto the large back patio. She didn't sit down beside Jason in any of the wicker chairs set around a glass table, choosing to lean on the railing next to the steps, her arms crossed.

Tim didn't sit either, leaning across from her against the house, the same position as her. Defensive and angry. It worked well on them.

What had happened, she wondered, frowning slightly. It was never great, but…six weeks ago she'd about had it. She closed her eyes, knowing that Jason wanted to talk to them, but…

Hell, talking was the last thing she wanted to do.

* * *

_"What are you doing?"_

_She lifted her eyes, seeing him standing in the doorway, looking beat. He worked as much as the union allowed him, which was pretty damn far. "How was work?" she mumbled, because it was easier to ask him pleasantries than to explain what she was doing._

_"I dangled about ten stories off the ground and welded stuff together Lyla. That's how my day was." He stripped off his flannel shirt, remaining in his t-shirt and jeans, gesturing to the door. "Why is Rue's room almost empty? Where's her stuff?"_

_"I'm…I'm going to stay with my dad."_

_He stared at her for a second and turned away from her, walking into the bathroom._

_She stopped folding scrub tops, staring at his retreating back. "That's all you're going to say?" she yelled._

_"Yup."_

_"I should have figured you wouldn't care."_

_He emerged from the bathroom, his shirt in his hands. He shrugged, reaching up to rub at his beard. It was a nervous tic she'd discovered once he grew it out. "You're right Garrity, I don't care. You're just going to do what you're going to do."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"What do you think it means?" he retorted, leaning on his back leg, staring at her. He laughed, but it was more of a bark. "It means you do what you want and leave me to follow after you. You want to go to your dad's? Fine. You are not keeping my daughter from me, I don't care how mad you are."_

_"Tim we're not happy."_

_"Newsflash Lyla, we haven't been happy in almost four years."_

_We were happy once, she thought, blinking. She bit her bottom lip, her brow wrinkling. "We…we were once," she breathed, lifting her eyes. _

_He shook his head, leaning against the doorframe. He smiled slightly, lifting his eyes to hers again. They were equally sad, defeated. "No Lyla," he said, shaking his head and pushing away. "That wasn't real."_

_"It wasn't real?" she whispered. She wiped at her eyes. "All those times you said you loved me? That was just…what? Lies?"_

_They both said nothing, for a good minute, until he shook his head again. "Those weren't lies Lyla. They were just…" He sighed hard, his gaze fixated on hers. "You said what you said…in the hospital a few months ago."_

_"I…I was upset."_

_"No, you were saying the truth."_

_She set her suitcase down on the floor, pulling up on the roller bag's handle, tossing her hair from her eyes. "Where have you been going? When you just leave?"_

_He didn't say anything, his gaze falling down to the floor. "Nowhere."_

_You're lying to me, she thought. She closed her eyes; she had her suspicions. She released a long breath, tilting her face up to the ceiling. Praying. Please, she begged. Help me make a decision. She let her gaze fall back. He didn't love her anymore. If he ever did at all. She ran her tongue over her teeth; he just up and disappeared from time to time. She had her suspicions about who he was with, but...she wasn't going to jump to conclusions.  
_

_"I'll call you later," she said._

_He called out to her when she made a move towards the bedroom door. "You want a divorce? That what this about?"_

_A divorce? No, I don't want a divorce, I just don't want to be like this anymore. She shook her head, whispering, sarcastic. "Yeah, Tim, a divorce. That's what I want after all the time and energy I've put into this…"_

_"Marriage?"_

_She closed her eyes, hearing the sarcasm in his voice. Yes, a marriage, regardless of how it originated, she thought, lifting her eyes up to his. "Forget it. My dad has Rue. You can come by this weekend and see her until we can get a schedule in place or something."_

_"She's my daughter."_

_"I know. She is your daughter."_

_"You keep her from me Garrity and…" He let the unfinished threat hang there, but she already knew. It wouldn't be pleasant. _

_She looked down at her phone, buzzing in her palm. Jason. That was weird. She hit ignore, shoving it into her pocket. "Goodbye."_

_"Goodbye Lyla."_

_After waiting a second, for…she wasn't sure what she was waiting on, but when he went back into the bathroom and closed the door, flicking the lock, she knew it certainly wasn't that._

* * *

After waiting a beat for them to get settled, Lyla guessed, Jason glanced between the both of them. He took off his sunglasses, tossing them onto the table. "I know the both of you are being stupid. You have a lot of serious issues and that's fine, but we're here to…to celebrate. Celebrate ten years since Dillon won state and I know I've been in New York and both of you have had your life experiences and stuff, but that's still a big thing in this town and sometimes its nice to focus on something like that."

She didn't really want to get into a discussion about small-town values or anything, nor did she want to get into them having to be nice to each other. "Jason, I have to get to work in a few minutes, why do you want us out here?"

"Yeah," Tim piped up.

Jason glanced at the both of them, laughing and shrugging. "Fine. Fine, I wanted to talk to the both of you, which I did not realize would be so difficult to do, but…but I didn't just come back to Dillon for the reunion." He glanced their way again. He shrugged. "I'm also here to let you guys know that Erin and I are getting a divorce."

"What?" Tim immediately asked, before Lyla had a chance to speak "Why?"

"Why? Because we have bigger problems than the two of you."

Lyla shot him a dark look. That wasn't fair. Everyone's problems were different. "Excuse me?" she interrupted. Even Tim looked a bit perturbed at that comment.

"Fine, maybe that wasn't fair, but we're divorcing for reasons that are foreign to the both of you. Because she wants another kid and I can't give her that. Because I work too much and don't spend time with her. Because I don't have time for my kid, all kinds of reasons, that's why." Jason sighed, looking down at the table and then towards Lyla. "Because she doesn't love me anymore, because we actually did get together because we had a kid. I don't know if we would have…would have seen each other again if that weren't the case, but it was and…and so be it."

"So," he continued. "We can't work through it. We tried, but we're in two different places. Two different futures. Thousands of dollars in couple's counseling and we're still getting a divorce." He chuckled, his voice soft, once again looking at the both of them from side to side. "Not like you guys."

That wasn't fair at all. There was no comparison between the both of them. Lyla could already sense the beginning of a lecture. She was not in the mood. "Jason," she began, shaking her head. "Please don't do this."

Jason opened his mouth to speak again, but Tim stood up slowly, his voice soft. They both looked towards him, listening close. "I'm sorry about Erin," he said. He smiled a little. "But Jason you can't come in here and do this with us."

Thank you Tim, Lyla thought, a little surprised at his reaction.

"The hell I can't," Jason snapped. He glanced between them both. "You are my best friends. My best friends in the world and I know we've grown apart, but we always said that we'd rise up together. We've been through a lot worse than this."

Alright. That was it. Lyla was done with this.

"You can't walk," she whispered. She met his eyes, also aware of Tim's boring holes in her. Her eyebrows lifted, her voice thickening with unshed tears. "My daughter can't walk either, Jason. Difference being I helped you because you had to deal with it when you were forced. My daughter has to deal with it because some cruel twist of fate her spine didn't grow properly."

That didn't need to be said, because Jason knew. He was there, in the waiting room, and in her hospital room, holding her hand the entire time, knowing how much pain she was going through. While Tim was off hiding and brooding.

Was it karma, she wondered, for screwing up her life as much as she had in the past? She thought she'd overcome that.

Her eyes lifted to meet Tim's. He was watching her. They'd been through too much together. It was becoming too much of a chore to be with him. It had always been work, but this…this was more like punishment. "This isn't high school," she continued, focusing on him now. "We can't just sit around a fire and say Texas Forever and we'll be together and it will all be fine no matter what happens. Ten years ago we were stupid kids who had the world. Now we're stupid adults who have lives. Who have to make money and pay bills and we know that when we fall in love there will be a chance it ends in heartbreak."

Her voice dropped again. "Or divorce." Tim looked away from her.

She pushed away from the railing, walking towards the house, stopping at the door and looking back at Tim. She glanced at Jason. "I'll see you later Jason, but right now I have to get to work. Buddy can show you out. Or you can just leave."

She went back into the house, going up to her room to change into her "work clothes" of scrub pants, tennis shoes, and a t-shirt with "Dillon Regional PT" on the back over her shoulders. She grabbed a jacket, her purse, and jogged back down the stairs, leaving her things at the door and going into the playroom area.

Where she paused, seeing Jason and Tim sitting with Rue, who was out of her chair in Tim's lap, her braces on her legs. Jason was talking quietly to her as she pointed at things on his chair.

Lyla looked down at the floor and then turned away. Rue wouldn't look at her sometimes when Tim was in the same room. The little girl was insanely in love with her father and nothing anyone else could do would change that. When she wanted someone, she wanted Tim.

It didn't hurt her like it would most people.

Hell, even she could understand that. Plus, Rue was three. She was three and she was going through things three-year olds shouldn't go through. Lyla left the house without saying anything, climbing into her SUV.

The hospital wasn't too far away from Buddy's, which was nice for her. She didn't have to take damn near an hour to get there now. She parked in the employee section, waiting a moment. It was just an extra couple of patients. She got a little bonus for doing it, which always helped, but…she didn't want to go in just yet.

She looked in the rearview mirror, at the space where there should be a seat, but it was the space for Rue's wheelchair. That damn chair. "Damnit," she whispered, leaning over her steering wheel.

She hit her head against it for a moment, the tears pricking her eyes and eventually falling. She sobbed, leaning backwards, giving herself the good cry. It had been awhile. Crying for herself, for her life. What it had ended up becoming.

It wasn't like her to do this, she usually found something else to focus on. Maybe it was unhealthy, to bury her life away like she did sometimes, but…once in awhile it felt good to just sob.

Ten years. Good Lord.

Ten years ago she thought she'd have the world. They were all celebrating that moment when the town, needing a victory after so much, got it. It was more than just them. She thought even after Jason's accident they'd get married and have children and…and she'd be taking care of him, but at least that would be it…it was defined, so to speak, she knew what she'd be doing.

And then things changed and she did what she wanted for the first time in her life she did something for herself. Completely overwhelmed, she kissed his best friend. One mistake at the time and now…it was a turning point.

She left Dillon, she went to a good college because she was a good student and a good kid and she deserved that. She didn't deserve to put forth so much effort into something that wasn't for her anymore.

There would be no more…living for one person and she couldn't bear to be that person for someone else.

Then there was that one night. Just one night. She came back for a visit and then…

She closed her eyes, still remembering what it was like…about three months later, sitting there in the campus doctor's office before autumn semester at UT started. Pregnant.

Things changed. More challenges and…and living for herself became living for her daughter, working for her daughter, and taking care of her daughter. She was caring for someone again, her entire life becoming about them. Only this time it was different.

Lyla wiped her eyes, cleaning her face up and clearing her throat. She climbed out of the car, picking up her bag. In the elevator she reached up to her neck, tugging out the silver chain and studying her wedding ring.

At the time Tim said he'd get a ring. They got married in a courthouse and then had a ceremony for their family and friends, where their witnesses weren't a court reporter and the judge's secretary. About two weeks after the weddings, she told her father she was pregnant. About a month after that, she sat her father down again and sobbed, because Tim had left to go drink himself to death after the doctors found something on the ultrasound that alarmed them.

And so her new life began, she thought to herself, stepping out of the elevator, replacing the wedding ring, which Tim gave her after the six-month ultrasound when the doctor finally told them the extent of the defect. He said she needed something pretty, so he bought her the prettiest ring he could find.

Lyla tucked it under her t-shirt, placing her things in her locker and going down the hall, smiling and nodding to the nurses, stepping into the first patient's room of the day. A football player from Westerbee who bruised his spine. "Hello I'm Lyla Garrity, I'm going to be your physical therapist," she said in her soft voice, offering her hand and smiling, looking over at the terrified parents.

The teenager lifted his eyes. "What are you supposed to do with me? You're not a doctor."

Lyla grinned, pushing her life out of her mind, focusing on why she chose this profession. To help people. Only this time for herself. She lowered the bars on the bed, her hand going to her hips. "My job is to help you get better."


	3. Just Give Me A Reason

**A/N:** Thank you very much for the reviews! I know this is pretty serious, but it gets better. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 3: Just Give Me A Reason**

Tim closed his eyes, listening to the rain pouring against the ceiling above his head. He tilted the beer bottle to his lips, taking a long sip before setting it back on his chest, his fingers folding around it.

Ah, relaxation.

He pushed his head farther back into the couch cushions, wanting to just disappear. His eyes closed tighter, pushing away the creeping thoughts of Lyla. Whenever he just went blank, there she was, suddenly appearing.

It was his day off from the site, so he was taking a moment to just sit by himself. He knew what Lyla would say. Get off his ass and do something. Go find another job that paid better. Take the damn contracting test to get his license so he could start a business of his own. He could never just sit and close his eyes.

The front door opened and closed, Jason's voice calling out. "Timmy? You here? Your truck's out front!"

_Six._

Last night he'd gone and had a few too many, which was fine usually, but having to wake up to Jason's annoying judgment was not what he wanted to deal with. He turned a little, eyes opening just in time to see Jason's eyeroll. "What?" he demanded. "I can't have one drink?"

"Where's Rue?"

"It's Thursday. She's with Lyla. I get her on most weekends." Lyla made the case that she had a better support network for Rue. Whatever that meant. He just didn't want Rue to be confused and scared, so he agreed with it. He missed her though. It felt like a hole in his heart when she wasn't around.

Jason leaned forward over his knees, his hands pushed together over his knees. "You just going to lie there and be sulky?"

"I'm relaxing."

"Oh, yes of course, relaxing."

He didn't want to know why Jason was being sarcastic. It was legitimate. I work all the damn time, I have a day off, and I'm going to relax. He closed his eyes again, folding his hands over his lap.

A second later a splash of cold water sent him flying up off the couch. "What the hell?" he exclaimed, wiping water out of his eyes, staring at Jason, who was tossing a bottle of water onto the coffee table with the empty beer bottles and chip bags. "Could have just woken me up like a normal person Six!"

"Get off this couch Riggins."

"Why?" he shot back, but got to his feet nonetheless, mostly to just get a towel to wipe water out of his hair and eyes and beard. The soupcatcher was going to have to go soon, he thought, rubbing at his jaw.

"Because. Because you are making me regret even coming back here. For two days you've just sat around and moped."

"Moped?" he asked. He closed the bathroom door beneath the staircase, dropping the hand towel he used to dry off onto an end-table. He crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. "I worked sixty hours last week Six. I get to relax."

"And what did Lyla do?" Jason lifted his eyebrows, glowering. He smiled tightly. "Lyla worked sixty hours and she had to take Rue to therapy and she had to well, you know, take care of her!"

He cocked his head. Oh, so that's how it was going to be. "You're on her side," he whispered. He took a step back. It hurt. He didn't realize how much.

Jason decided to come back for this stupid dog and pony show tomorrow night. Jason decided to stay with him and decided to use the opportunity to tell them about his divorce from the redhead. He was sorry about that, but…he didn't call Jason.

My best friend…hasn't really been a best friend the last few years, he thought, not like he'd been much of one over the years anyway. He waved his hand between the both of them. "This, Street? Be on her side!"

"There are no sides Tim! I only found out about how bad it was when I was watching the two you glaring at each other over your handicapped daughter yesterday!"

His eyes widened a bit. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

He cocked his head again, whispering. "You know…being in that chair is pretty good for you Street."

Jason narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

Tim continued, his voice low. "You can say and do whatever you want and no one can…can do anything back."

"You want to hit me or something Riggins? Go right ahead."

"No," he whispered, pushing away from where he'd been leaning against the wall. He closed his eyes, turning to walk away. "Forget it."

"No Tim, I'm not going to forget it! I have three days left in Dillon and so help me, I am going to find out why you and Lyla are doing this to each other! And you know what?" He laughed, almost a sob. "I want my best friend! My life is falling apart and I want my best friend! Not this shell of a person who feels sorry for himself because his life sucks and you know what? Take a look in the mirror Tim."

Mirror? He shook his head, whispering. "Why are you putting this on me?"

"Why?" Jason demanded. He punctuated his questions with a punch from his fist to his palm. "Who chose to drop out of school? Who chose to let Lyla go completely? Who chose to go to jail for his brother? And who chose to marry a girl he knocked up because he was trying to do right by her? That was you! You chose to do all those things and you chose to not tell me about jail, to ignore all my letters and all my phone calls, and you know what Tim? I didn't really care. It was so par for the course for you. You get so selfless than you become selfish!"

Tim shook his head, whispering, his eyes narrowed. "I have no idea what you are talking about right now."

Jason gaped at him for a minute before yelling again in frustration. "God! I hate you! You are the worst friend ever!"

"Good, I hate you too!" Tim stormed away to the kitchen, whipping open the fridge and removing a beer. He cracked the cap, hurling it into the sink, but he didn't want a drink. He wanted to punch Jason. He was being so self-righteous and infuriating. Usually he could ignore it, but now…

He set the beer bottle down, turning slightly to see Jason watching him from the doorway to the living area. "What?" he demanded.

"Why did you marry Lyla?"

Excuse me? He frowned, shrugging. "What's that have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with a lot of stuff. You see, I married Erin because I loved her. We had a son together, but I married her because I was in love with her. Unfortunately for the both of us…that didn't work out," Jason said, his voice quiet. He shrugged again. "So you were with Tyra, right?"

No, no, no, he didn't get to ask those questions. He began to shake his head, whispering. "I don't want to talk about this."

"You were with Tyra and then Lyla…she graduated from Vanderbilt and came home, right? You guys…then a few months later…so why'd you marry her? If you were with Tyra, why did you marry Lyla?"

What part of 'I don't want to talk' did he not understand?

He ignored Jason's protests that he couldn't just ignore this stuff, going out onto the porch and falling back into one of the Adirondack chairs pushed to the corner. He looked up, scowling at a leaking gutter, pouring rain down onto the porch. His eyes fell towards the steps straight ahead of him, at the other end of the porch.

There was a dip in the roof at that end of the porch; it was a narrower drop than the other sides. He got lazy one day when he was building it and didn't bother to go back and fix it, so when it rained, it was almost like a waterfall.

He smiled a little, his fingers brushing through his hair, leaning farther back in the chair, his legs outstretched. The ceremony they'd had for their friends and family was a surprise. They invited a few people. Billy was the officiator. It rained, so they got married at the end of the porch, in front of the "waterfall."

Street wasn't there. He'd called him before, after…after Tyra left because…he needed someone to talk to, but after that, he didn't talk to him again until about a month or so after the wedding, unable to really speak because they'd just found out their daughter was probably going to be paralyzed. He wanted his best friend. The only person who might possibly understand.

The French doors were open to the living room and Jason pushed his chair back out. "I'm going to my mom and dad's tonight for dinner. I have to break the news to them about the divorce. Before I tell someone tomorrow and it gets around," Jason said, his voice soft. He shrugged. "You want to come? My mom said she hasn't seen you in a long time."

"I'm fine."

"You just going to sit and drink?"

He smiled a little. "That's what I do, isn't it?"

"It's pathetic Tim." Jason tapped his hands on the sides of his chair. He whispered. "So you were with Tyra when you slept with Lyla, huh?"

He glanced up, his eyes closing a little. No. He actually wasn't, but…it always felt like something that was on her side more than his…using him, so to speak. He sighed hard. "You know Jason, maybe for once I didn't want someone to use me? To actually be with someone who wanted to be with me, even for one damn night. You know?"

Jason frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Maybe he'd had a few too many. He got up from the chair, going towards the porch railing, looking out at the sloping hills of his land. There were a few trees he had to cut down, they were starting to block the view of the sunset. He glanced down at Street, smiling a little. "Tyra and I were not together. Not officially. That's all you get, Street. It's not worth talking about."

"She was hurt though, right?"

Yes, she was hurt, he thought, fixating on one of the trees he'd hung a swing in. Rue liked to sit in it and swing. Sometimes he'd just let her sit there with he worked on the truck or around the house. The littlest things made her happy. He wished that worked on adults.

Tyra was hurt. He didn't tell her about Lyla, not through the entire summer, not until she came back before she left for California, when he had to sit her down and tell her that they couldn't see each other anymore, there would be no…no future together.

Why, she'd wondered, even though he thought she might have been a bit relieved.

So he told her.

He…he wasn't sure what to make of his relationship with Tyra, especially after recent developments, since she moved back to Texas, about six months ago. Even if they were…okay…he still thought about how he disappointed her.

Jason sighed again, whispering. "I love you Tim, you're my best friend and…and I just want you to be happy. This isn't…do you really think that Lyla only wanted to marry you because of a baby?"

Yes. He dropped his gaze back down to Jason. "You should get to your parents. They're probably wondering where you are."

He turned away, going back inside and upstairs, waiting in the hall, leaning against the bannister until the front door slammed. After a few minutes, the rental truck Jason got roared to life and eventually the sound of the engine faded in the distance.

I'm too tired to even move, he thought, his eyes closing, turning and trudging upstairs, not even going to his room, but straight to Rue's, where he sometimes slept, if only because it felt like he was close to her.

Sad and pathetic as that might be.

He hit his head against the wall, sitting on the little hospital bed they'd needed to get for her. His eyes fluttered shut, the fatigue overcoming him. A thought of another drink crept through his mind. Maybe he could summon the energy to get another.

Very slowly, he slid down from the wall onto the bed his head hitting the pillow, hugging it against him. One of her stuffed animals fell from above the pillow, at the head of the bed. He opened one eye, seeing that it was a floppy eared dog. He hugged it under his arm, slowly falling to sleep.

As he drifted off to sleep, he remembered. He hated remembering, he thought, closing his eyes tighter, trying to will it all away.

* * *

_A baby._

_Marriage._

_He bit his lip hard, sitting on the couch. Garrity had left, to go to the courthouse and start getting paperwork. He'd told Billy; figured it shouldn't take too long now before the whole town knew, but…Billy was so stunned that he'd just said all he wanted to do was be best man or actually be the officiator. "Figured Street would want to be your best man," he said._

_Street._

_He needed to tell Street. He needed to tell Coach. Coach Taylor could help, but…he was in Philadelphia. What help would that be? Besides, he had to start taking care of himself. _

_Twenty-three and having a baby and marrying and…he had no idea what possessed him to ask Garrity. It was just…he figured she'd want it. He'd had to kind of convince her a little, but after their weekend together, she'd agreed. She was…like that. She said yes. Only because of the baby._

_Did he propose to her because he loved her or because of the baby? _

_He had no idea. _

_I love her, he thought idly. Maybe, yeah. It never really had gone away. Was he still in love with Garrity? Hell if he knew. He'd pushed her so far out of his mind after she left; he had no choice and now? _

_Now he was more confused than ever. _

_He got up from the couch, going to stand in his kitchen, waiting. _

_This was going to be hard. _

_Almost as if on cue, the front door opened, Tyra stepping inside. "Hey you," she called, dropping her bag on the floor. "You didn't answer your phone earlier, is everything alright?"_

_"Yeah, um…" He held his hands up, keeping her at bay when she went to kiss him. He closed his eyes tight. This was really going to be difficult. "I need to tell you something."_

_"Shoot."_

_"Sit down." He took her outside, waiting for her to sit down on the porch chairs, but she didn't, choosing to stand beside him, concerned. Best to get it over with, like a bandaid. "Um…I can't see you anymore Tyra."_

_She chuckled. "Didn't know we were dating Tim. Thought we were…what are the kids calling it, friends with benefits?"_

_"No, I can't do that either." He took a few deep breaths, shaking his head and staring out at the land. "I…I can't ever do what…what we talked about."_

_"What are you even talking about?"_

_He blurted it out, turning his head towards her to see her reaction. "A few…few months ago…Lyla came back to town…"_

_Tyra drew back, lifting her chin slightly. She pursed her lips, nodding. "Okay." She shrugged, her voice soft. "Why are you telling me this Tim? You getting back together with her or something? I thought she was starting grad school."_

_"She is, um…" He wasn't sure now. "But…we…" He took a deep breath, whispering. Here it came. Just get it over with. "We're getting married."_

_There. He said it._

_Tyra stared at him for a second. "Excuse me?"_

_He couldn't lie to her. Or hide anything, not anymore. He hadn't told Billy the real reason; not yet, just that Garrity came back to town, they talked, and were getting married. Weren't wasting any more time. _

_"Lyla's pregnant."_

_Tyra was silent, unmoving. He turned his head towards her; he already knew what was coming._

_The slap really didn't have much heat or anger behind it. It seemed like a motion, because she wasn't sure what else to do with herself. Tyra closed her eyes, turning and burying her face into her hands, leaning on the banister. "You got Lyla Garrity pregnant and now you're marrying her?" she demanded._

_"Yes."_

_"What the hell Tim?"_

_"We aren't together! Not like that, you didn't want it Tyra." Don't make this on me, he thought. It isn't my fault this time. _

_Tyra stood straight, her chin lifting a little, almost defiant. "You want to do that Tim, that's fine. Marry the girl you knocked up. At least you're owning up to it, but…damnit Tim."_

_"You and I aren't together," he repeated. I didn't cheat on you; not this time, at least._

_"It still would have been nice if you'd told me the twenty other times I saw you over the summer," she whispered, staring at him, shaking her head, jabbing her finger in his chest. "You just made me the other woman."_

_What!? "Lyla and I aren't together!"_

_"No Tim, you're just marrying her because she's pregnant with your child. You're 23-years old! This isn't the 1800s, you don't have to do that anymore, but that's your first response? To propose to her? You're still in love with her!"_

_No, no I'm not, he thought, shaking his head quickly. "No."_

_"Yes," Tyra laughed, removing her car keys from her pocket. She laughed again, tossing her hair over her shoulder, looking out at the horizon. "You're a stand-up guy Tim Riggins, but I'm pretty sure that if I told you I was pregnant, you wouldn't instantly propose to me. You'd help me, but you wouldn't jump to that response and by the way?" _

_Tyra shrugged. "Lyla might be religious, but she also cheated on her boyfriend with you and she dated you and she was running around with Jason Street when she was 15 and they weren't just making out. Being a single mother at 23 would suck for her, but she wouldn't demand you marry her. She said yes for a reason."_

_"She doesn't love me anymore. This is…convenience." He had no idea what it was._

_Tyra chuckled, leaning over to pat his chest. "I'm not going to stand here and have you just ignore things. Goodbye Tim."_

_"Tyra…please. Can we just…" he sighed hard. "Remain friends? We are still family."_

_"Yes," she answered. She shrugged. "We can be family Tim, but…I think we just need some time. You need to figure some things out and this time I can't help you. Only you can do that."_

_Please come back, he thought, watching her retreat away, picking up her bag from the foyer and leaving, slamming the door behind her. Please, I need someone. I need someone._

_He fumbled with his phone, looking down at the contacts, scrolling through and hitting one he hadn't talked to in some time. He leaned down against the banister, burying his face into his hands, listening to it ring._

_"Hello?"_

_"Jason," he whispered. He bit his lip hard, tasting blood. "I need to talk to you."_

_"Timmy?"_

_"I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in forever, but I need you Street and I never say that. Please."_

_Jason was quiet for a few minutes; he wondered if maybe the line disconnected. "Okay," Jason whispered. "What's going on?"_

* * *

He was barely asleep, mostly just dozing. Somewhere in the back of his mind, in the fog of memories, he swore he heard the door open. Front door, maybe? It didn't matter. He shifted a little, hugging the stuffed animal tighter to his chest. In the fuzziness of his drunk-addled mind, he opened his eyes briefly, seeing what looked like Lyla standing before him.

He held out his hands when she reached down, carefully helping him sit up. "What are you doing?" he slurred, from drink and sleep.

"I don't know," she answered, her arm around him, helping him off the bed. He thought he heard her crying. She hiccupped. "Something I guess I'm supposed to do. Come on."

"I miss you," he whispered, falling backwards onto their bed, bouncing a little on the mattress. He leaned back on his elbows, watching her pull off his boots and socks, his hand reaching out for her again.

Their fingers slid together and he pulled her down over him, whispering. "Why are we doing this again?" he breathed, his hand smoothing along her cheek. He hoped he'd remember this in the morning.

Lyla shook her head, her eyes closing, tears trickling out of them. "Tim, no. I…I can't do this with you now. Go to sleep. You're drunk."

He cupped the back of her head, his fingers in her hair. It fell over his hand like the waterfall he always imagined came off the roof when it rained. Very slowly, he lowered her lips down to his, brushing over them lightly. He smiled slightly when she stiffened, but didn't move.

I got you, he thought, pressing harder, feeling her freeze up, fighting the kiss, but like always, she gave in, returning it, usually harder than how he even started it. She stumbled forward, losing her balance over him, falling onto the bed, pushing at his shoulders.

We're very good at this part, we just suck at everything else, he thought, feeling her fingers pushing at his shirt, unbuttoning. He fell a little slack, suddenly exhausted again, his hands falling away from her. "Lyla," he sighed.

This wouldn't do any good anyway. Just another means of delaying a discussion on their real problems.

She stopped her movement, rolling off to the side, her leg still slung over his hip, her hand light on his chest. "Go to sleep," she whispered. She reached her hand to his cheek. "Please just go to sleep."

Yes, he agreed, snuggling back into the pillows, feeling her beside him. He reached down, his hand grasping hers. He felt it there the entire time he slept.

A few hours later, he stirred awake, his head already beginning to pound. He turned his head on the pillow, staring at the wrinkled empty spot on the bed beside him. How long had she been gone?

He slowly stretched is fingers out, curling them into the space where she was.

And smiled.

It was still warm.


	4. Helping You Help Me

**A/N**: The fic alternates between Tim/Lyla/Jason POVs, almost in that order, but this chapter ended up being so long (over 10,000 words) that I split it into two, so there will be two Lyla chapters in a row before I get to a Jason chapter (which might also be split in two). So don't worry, Jason's story will be told. Thank you for the reviews, I do know this is a bit on the serious side, but I wanted to give something else a shot other than some other cutesy fic. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 4: Helping You Help Me**

"So why did you become a therapist, Lyla? You enjoy inflicting pain on people?"

Lyla chuckled, helping her newest patient, the football player from Westerbee, maneuver one of the machines to help strengthen his abdominal muscles to help with his back. She helped him off the machine, over to the table on the other side of the PT room she was using today. "Well," she drawled, reaching to lift his leg up, resting it against her shoulder. She held his knee lightly. "Tell me when it starts to hurt your back."

His name was Michael and she knew he was bitter about having to be in a wheelchair for the better part of Westerbee's football season. Not to mention on the bench for the entire year. "So you didn't answer my question," Michael said.

She lowered his leg back to the table, leaning over and guiding his legs and arms into position, looping her arm through them and turning him to stretch his back. She braced her foot on the floor, tugging. "Well," she said again, tossing her ahir from her eyes, yanking at him again. "When I was your age, my boyfriend…he broke his neck playing football. First game of the season."

"Damn. He okay?"

"Well he's paralyzed," she whispered, settling him back out on the table, stretching at his legs. She smiled softly. "And he's actually doing really well for a guy whose entire future relied on football. He's a sports agent in New York. He turned his injury into…into this whole other life."

And he's doing better in his life than I am, she thought, turning Michael over and doing the same thing to his other side. "So," she said, shrugging a little. "I was in school and I had no idea what I wanted to do. I went to this career counselor. She told me to think of something that I like doing anyway. I like to help people." More like I need to help people to satisfy some psychological need, she thought darkly. She shook her head slightly. "And I decided to become a doctor."

"But you're a physical therapist."

She chuckled. "Yes, I am a physical therapist. I realized all the work that had to go into being a doctor and I just…I didn't want to be in school for the next ten years, so I decided to do physical therapy. To help people cope with their injuries and rehab the body. I'm also an athletic trainer and a certified massage therapist."

"Ooh, cool, can I get a massage?" he asked, grinning.

"I don't think so," she laughed. "That's not in your rehab plan."

"Darn."

"Roll over, careful," she drawled, helping him back onto his stomach, beginning to push on the muscles of his back, stretching them out manually. "So that's my answer. Why I am a PT."

"Cool. You went to Dillon, right?"

"Yeah, I did."

"They haven't won a state championship in ten years, were you there for that?"

She smiled slightly, whispering. "Yes."

"I hope we go to state this year. Although…" He sighed, his voice quiet. "I don't want to be in a wheelchair when we win."

I can appreciate that thought. She helped him sit up on the table, walking over to get his wheelchair and helped him maneuver into it, reaching for the safety belt on the counter. "Well Michael," she said. "My friend Jason was in a wheelchair when he'd rather have been on the field. Ten years later if you ask him if he won state with them, he'll say yes. You're as much a part of the team as you are in or out of a chair."

Michael smiled a little, looking up. "Thanks," he whispered. He glanced at the bulletin board on the wall, with her name on it and some of the patients she'd worked with over the past couple years. He pointed up to one of her and Rue. "That your daughter? She looks like you."

"She looks like her father," Lyla answered, smiling up at the photo of Rue. She nodded, pushing him out of the room down the hall. "And yes, that is my daughter."

"She's in a wheelchair?"

"Yes."

Michael lifted his head back up to her. "Why?"

Lyla shrugged, whispering. My, you are a chatty one. "She was born with spina bifida. A rare form of it, her spine was on the outside of her body, the skin didn't close over it. So she's going to be in a wheelchair or braces or using crutches to walk for most of her life." If not all of it.

"Yikes. That sucks."

It does suck.

"Bet you're glad you picked physical therapy."

"Yeah, it was kind of ironic."

"What's your husband do?"

You really are nosy, she thought with a chuckle. "How did you know I was married?"

"Your ring is on your necklace. Plus you said to my dad that you were Lyla Rigg…before you changed your mind," Michael said, glancing up, smiling impishly. He shrugged, his voice quiet. "My mom would do that after they got divorced, until she remembered she changed her name back. Pretty obvious."

When you were stuck in a hospital bed all day long, you let your mind wander, she figured, pushing the elevator 'down' button and leaning back on her hip, glancing down at Michael. "Well, if you really want to know, my husband, he's an ironworker for construction sites."

"What's that?"

She blew out a hard breath. It was a really good gig, if you could keep up with it, which Tim sometimes didn't want to do. She couldn't even remember how he got into it. Just that it paid a helluva lot more than simple construction worker. "Basically a welder, but he does buildings. You know the guys that hang on scaffolding about twenty stories above the ground? That's him."

"Can't imagine doing that in Dillon."

"He works in Austin usually, but he doesn't just do skyscrapers." Although you made more money if you went higher. She bit her bottom lip, shrugging. "He also played for Dillon."

"Yeah, Riggins, everyone knows him. My older brother played you guys, his junior year of high school. He dislocated his shoulder after Riggins hit him," Michael laughed, looking up when the elevator door opened. "So you like to fix people, that it Lyla?"

"I like to help people," she said, quietly, leaning against the wall of the elevator, smiling a little. She smiled slowly. "Although at the time they think I'm hurting them."

"Sometimes therapy hurts, but you feel better afterward."

Yeah, she thought, running her tongue over her teeth. That could be said for a lot of things. She cleared her throat, pushing him back down the hallway to his room. Her ponytail bounced on her shoulders. "You're right on that," she whispered a moment later. Maybe that was why she chose this profession, she had no idea.

Michael tilted his head back. "You said I can walk again, right?"

"Your doctor seems to think so. If you keep up your exercises, you should be out of that chair in a month."

"Really?"

She chuckled, pushing him into his room, leaning to brake the chair. "Yes, I can't do everything on my own here, you need to give a little on your own time." That could go for many things in my life, she thought idly, helping him get back into the bed, before, reaching for a stack of homework he'd pushed aside on the tray. "Alright Michael, get to doing your schoolwork, you can't use a hurt back to get out of it," she teased, reaching down to shove the bars of his bed into place.

Michael rolled his eyes. "Thanks Lyla," he whispered, shrugging slightly. "You're like the only person in this hospital who doesn't treat me like I'm some stupid kid."

Then I'm doing my job, she thought, reaching to squeeze his forearm. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, leaving the room and heading off towards the locker room. As she gathered her things together, she wondered about Michael. To be a teenager again, when your biggest issue was whether or not you were on the field when you won state.

It was those…silly thoughts that were so big when you were so young. None of them were teenagers by the end of that fall though, she thought, leaving the hospital and going to her car. She climbed up into the front seat, staring off out the windshield. Jason had learned to cope with his disability…he was beyond it completely.

She'd…she'd transferred her need to service people into a career that gave her a sense of purpose and happiness, where she could still make a difference. Tim…well he had one of the biggest wake-up calls of his life and to her knowledge he hadn't even so much as gone over the speed limit in the last, almost five years since he got out.

What was she going to do with him, she thought, checking her phone. Jason texted her, said he'd be at his parents if she wanted to stop by for dinner with Rue.

No, she thought. I need to get home to Rue.

Somehow though, driving home to her father's…she turned around when she passed the turn-off towards the house, moving west. Her car just kind of started to steer itself down that familiar path out into the countryside.

The phone sitting in her cupholder buzzed, Jason's smiling face appearing on the screen. She reached for it, answering. "Yeah?"

"Hey Lyla. It's Jason."

"I know Jason, I have your number in my directory."

"Yeah, um, did you get some of my messages?"

"I did. Aren't you at your mom and dad's?"

"Yeah, yeah, I am, my mom's finishing setting the table, I figured I'd give you a call…sorry I didn't see you today, you were working?"

She sighed, leaning back in her seat. "Yes Jason, I work. You should know, you work too."

"No need to be rude Lyla."

Damnit, I'm just tired, she thought, turning down another side-street, taking her farther into the middle of nowhere. "I'm sorry, I just…long day."

"Yeah. Helping kids with broken spines?"

"Just another day in paradise."

"Yeah, yeah…um, so you got my message about Tim? I think you need to stop and check on him Lyla."

I'm not his keeper, I'm his wife. She breathed slowly through pursed lips, regulating her emotions for a moment. She cleared her throat. "Jason, I'm not…I am not going to help him to bed."

"I'm not saying you should, but…Lyla he's kind of losing his mind."

"He should have thought of that."

"Well he can't, Lyla. You know that. He doesn't think like that, he never has. He can't think of himself. I swear he's like the most selfless person in the world."

"And he is also probably the most selfish person around. He only called you Jason when he needed you but he hasn't been to New York to visit you."

Jason sighed on the other end. "I know, I know, I just…I know that Lyla. I'm just saying, you should maybe stop by the house, just talk to him or something. What I saw yesterday with Rue…look, Noah gets all withdrawn and…and quiet when Erin and I are in a room and I hate it. He's waiting for us to start fighting and that's not right for a kid."

I'm sorry, she thought, listening to him talk about that. She remembered her parents, the both of them yelling and screaming at each other, using the kids as pawns in their ridiculous games with each other. She didn't want to do that with Rue. Above all she didn't want to do that with her daughter.

"Okay," she finally whispered, turning her SUV down the long driveway heading towards the house. She parked outside the open door, shaking her head. "Jason, I'm…I'm actually outside the house. I'll talk to you later. Good luck with your Mom and Dad."

"Thanks. My mom is already guilting me for not bringing Noah to visit."

"Well you'll have to bring him next time."

Jason snorted. "Yeah, next time. Look, I'll be back at Tim's house before ten, so…you know, I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

No it wasn't, but Lyla wasn't going to say anything. She waited for Jason to say goodbye, when his mom started calling his name. She dropped her phone back in the cupholder, lifting her eyes to the house. It was such a nice house. She really felt…at home there.

Even if sometimes she felt like she was in someone else's house. Tim put her on the deed, when they got married. She felt like he'd given her his entire soul the day he presented it to her.

"Wedding present," he'd whispered, leaving her holding the paper, wondering what that was all about.

She climbed from her car, walking up into the house and closing the door behind her. It was empty. Turning her head up the stairs, she went, walking around the two landings to the second floor, looking into the double doors to their…to his room. Empty.

"Tim?" she whispered, taking a couple steps towards Rue's bedroom. She lightly touched the door, her heart breaking at the sight of him asleep in the little hospital bed, his ankles dangling off the side, holding a stuffed animal to him.

What am I doing to you?

What are you doing to me?

Her footsteps creaked on the hardwood, leaning over him, lightly touching his shoulder. He blinked a few times, mumbling, his hair sticking up as he lifted his head from the pillow. "What are you doing?" he slurred.

I have no idea she thought, reaching her arm under to help him up. As much as she wished she could just leave him and go back to her father's…she couldn't get Jason's voice out of her mind.

Rue doesn't need her parents to hate each other, even through all our problems, she thought, helping him get up to his feet.

A few minutes later, lying by his side, with her lips buzzing, she figured she'd just wait until he fell asleep. Make sure he didn't start having a seizure or something. Who knew how much he'd had to drink.

That was just an excuse, she knew it. She just didn't want to leave yet.

Until she was eventually drifting off beside him. Her eyes flickered a little and she swore she saw him smiling, watching her.


	5. You Can't Go Home

**A/N**: I did some rearranging of chapters to get a Jason one in rather than another Lyla (her chapter will finish tomorrow and Jason's will also probably finish up tomorrow- I had to split this one into two as well, it got so long). I do hope people are continuing with this story. :) Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 5: You Can't Go Home**

His mother nodded, handing him another dish. "I understand."

Something made him wonder if she really did understand. He cleared his throat, while taking his time on a glass. "It wasn't an easy decision. We really tried to work it out…I know that it was hard on you and dad with me, but…"

"Jason, sweetie, it's okay. You're a grown man. Almost 30."

"Give me another two years Mom," he teased.

Joanne turned off the faucet, turning and leaning against the sink, her arms crossing her chest. "Jason, you're my son and quite frankly…quite frankly I wasn't sure what to think when you told me about Noah and Erin and…and when you moved it broke my heart but I knew you needed to live your life. Your father and I were so scared you'd never be able to work, but you are and you're good and…and Jason we love you no matter what happens. You've gone through worse than this and you will rise up again."

Thanks, he thought, nodding a little when she leaned down, giving him a tight hug. "I love you Mom," he whispered, patting her back.

Joanne pulled away, squeezing his wrists. "How…how is Tim? You know, you could have stayed here, the house is all set up and…"

He interrupted her, turning his wheelchair to go over to the kitchen table, while she got down glasses for coffee and cake. "Yeah, um, he's okay." That's a complete lie.

And his mother knew it, so he cleared his throat again, reaching for the cup of coffee she set in front of him. Joanne sat down across from him, lifting an eyebrow. "Sweetie, I saw him and Lyla with that little girl. It was devastating for your father and I, but…but I can thank God that we didn't have to deal with the same challenges when you were born. That little girl doesn't know what it will ever mean to not be in that chair and maybe that's okay for her, but…but not for Tim and Lyla."

Yeah. Jason twirled the mug around on the table. He flexed his right fingers again. They usually got stiff by the end of the day; he had to keep working on his exercises again. A constant routine to make sure his muscles didn't completely atrophy.

Rue would have to do the same thing. For the rest of her life, not just the last ten years.

He sighed. "Mom, they're resilient. I think they'll be fine."

Joanne shook her head, whispering. "Sweetheart, I just don't know. Have you been talking with Lyla?"

"Not really."

"I think she could really use someone. You know I don't like to gossip, but…but I've heard about…about Tim and how he just disappears on her from time to time. That's not something a woman who is working and dealing with a special needs child needs."

His brow wrinkled a little. Disappearing? "What…what do you mean?" he whispered.

"Tim just sometimes up and leaves. No one knows where he goes, but usually on a weekend he'll just go somewhere."

I didn't know that, he thought, scowling a little. A thought crossed his mind, his eyes lifting to hers, whispering. "How long has he been doing that?"

Joanne shrugged, thinking for a second. "Probably the last six months. I guess, Jason, I don't know…Tim stopped coming around here after your accident, as much as it hurt me to see it. Then all that other stuff…I just couldn't believe he'd…him and Lyla? It was devastating, to see the town and then you…"

That was ten years ago and she was still upset by it? Jason smiled slightly, reaching to lift his coffee to his lips. He took a sip, smiling again. "Mom that was ten years ago. The three of us are kind of over it."

"I know, but…sometimes you can't forget things like that, especially when they hurt your child," Joanne said. She pushed a piece of cake towards him. "You're too skinny Jason, you need to eat more."

"I'm fine Mom." So, six months, huh? Yeah, he figured he knew where Tim was going, he thought darkly, taking another drink of coffee.

"So are you ready for this whole big weekend? The pep rally tomorrow morning, the football game tomorrow night…the banquet on Saturday…it's really a lot, I don't want you to…"

Jason interrupted her. "I'm not a mascot Mom. I was on the team when they won. Besides, it'll be fun to see all the old guys."

"Just so long as…."

"They're not going to prop me up Mom." He waited a second, looking up and smiling. "I haven't ever been a prop for them, a mascot. Believe me, I came here to just…" To get away, he sighed. He wanted to relive old times maybe. Hanging with the guys, pretending they were football gods. Not living these boring adult lives.

Full of work and obligations, he sighed again. Work. He cleared his throat. "Did I tell you I got that promotion at work?"

"You did! I'm so proud of you." She patted his hand, grinning. Her smile fell al ittle, but her eyes were still sparkling. "I wish you'd have gone to college or…or something, but…"

"I'm making more money now Mom than if I did with a college degree, I'm fine." Truth be told, he had wondered about maybe taking some part-time classes, but…he wanted to provide. Erin went back to school and got her degree. He just…worked. He cleared his throat. "I'm saving for Noah's college. He can get the degree."

"Just so long as you're happy Jason."

I am happy, he thought, lifting his eyes up, smiling a little. "Thanks Mom."

She quirked her lip. "You are happy, right Jason? That's all a mother ever wants for her child."

I am happy, he repeated. The divorce was not what he wanted, but…he would let Erin have it. He wanted to come back for some fun times, only to find that his best friends were in the middle of a "Who Loves Each Other More and Can Act Like Bigger Idiots About It" contest. Why do I always have to fix things, he wondered.

He cleared his throat again. "I should get going. I just…should probably get home to check on Tim." It wasn't that late, but he also wasn't sure if he wanted to stick around some more, with his mother fretting over him the way she was.

Joanne nodded. "Okay. I'll go get your dad."

Jason wheeled himself out of the room into the foyer, saying goodbye to his mother while his dad walked out with him to the handicap-equipped truck he'd rented. "You going to be at the game tomorrow Dad?"

"Yeah, of course," his father said, opening up the door and helping him get up into the truck. Mitchell folded up the wheelchair, setting it in the back, returning to the window, patting his wrist. "You sure about it son?"

"I'm fine with it." Jason smiled a little, reaching to turn the engine over. He waited a second, smiling again. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow…"

"Wait, Jason."

"Yeah?"

His father leaned on the open window, frowning a little. "You know…what's happening with you and Erin…I understand. If it's what you guys decided…that's fine. Because of that, maybe you should talk with Lyla."

What was this? Get Lyla and Jason back together day? He closed his eyes briefly. "Dad, she's married to Tim."

"I heard they're getting a divorce."

No, they're not. Not if I have anything to say about it.

He shook his head. "They're not divorcing Dad. They're going through something right now."

"Lyla looks absolutely miserable. I think she needs someone and…" Mitchell sighed. He dropped his voice, even though it was just the two of them. "Jason, your accident was a twist of…of fate. God's plan, maybe. It was hard to accept, but your mother and I came to terms with it…it's different when your child is born like that."

What was he talking about?

"Tim…Jason he's killing himself over her."

Over Lyla? Yeah, no crap. Jason glancing out the windshield, sighing for a moment. He shrugged. "Dad, I know. I'm helping him, he's my best friend."

"And you might need someone else too, Jason. I think Lyla might be that for you, because Tim is…you know him. You weren't here when he got back from prison, but he was just…some other person, wandering around even more than he did before. It was the same after that little girl was born."

He shook his head slightly. "Yeah, Dad. I know. It's okay." Jason reached over and put the truck into reverse, smiling a little. "I'll be fine. This weekend is a good chance to just…forget problems, just for a minute."

"I think you should talk with Lyla. Forget the past."

I already have, Dad, he thought with a chuckle, waving and backing out of the driveway. He drove out of the old neighborhood, meandering his way through Dillon, thinking about the couple of things he'd picked up this evening.

One, his parents clearly were trying to get him back with Lyla, whether they realized it or not. Which made no sense, in his opinion.

Two, he now had pretty much confirmed his suspicion about Tim's…extracurricular activities. Six months ago a certain someone moved from California to Austin, to work at the State Capitol and Jason would put good money down that Tim was up to his old habits.

And three, he'd learned that his best friend was once again blaming himself for something beyond his control. You'd think Tim would have learned by now.

But, Jason sighed, he knew his best friend. And for whatever reason, Tim didn't think like that and he hadn't learned by now.

Why do I have to be the one to make them see that, he thought, shaking his head with another sigh of frustration.

Especially since he was still trying to figure out some of his own stuff.

And he was fairly sure that Tim and Lyla weren't going to help him do that, even if he wished they would. Just a little.


	6. The Real Thing

**Chapter 6: The Real Thing**

She woke with a start, feeling like she was…she didn't know where she was, focusing for a second. Oh no, she thought, seeing she was in their room at the house. Her hand immediately went to her stomach, relieved to see that she was still fully dressed. She glanced sideways at Tim.

He slept like a baby, she thought, his arms slung above his head and his chin resting on his shoulder. Whenever he slept he actually looked peaceful. Although there were times when she'd woken up to him yelling in his sleep, having nightmares. Those took awhile to calm him down from. He hadn't had one in awhile. There usually were other things on his mind than the past.

She closed her eyes, waiting a moment before she climbed from the bed, grabbing her shoes and turning to look down at him. He was stirring a little.

I better get out of here, she thought, hurrying from the room, closing the door quietly behind her, shaking her head in disbelief, tears beginning to flood her vision.

What in the hell was I thinking, Lyla thought, driving furiously away from the house. She wiped at her eyes, shaking her head. Idiot. You're an idiot, she repeated in her head.

She just didn't want to go home. Didn't want to go home to just watch her little girl struggle to just get up on her two feet. They were lucky, she kept repeating that to herself…Rue could walk with help, one day she might be able to do it on her own.

It could be worse, she kept saying, over and over and over, whenever she wanted to give up. When the bills piled up and the work hours were too long and when Rue was scared and confused…

That was why she wanted to go to the house, not because Jason told her or because she felt guilty or…or something. "I just didn't want to go back to Dad's house," she said out loud, hitting her head against the headrest.

It got out of control. It was nice for five minutes, until she woke up, seeing him asleep beside her, like nothing was out of the ordinary. She had to get out of there.

Lyla hiccupped again, wiping at her eyes, smearing makeup everywhere. "You're such an idiot Lyla Garrity," she said out loud, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. Who was this woman? This stringy-haired, sallow-faced…scarecrow of a woman?

I am not the girl I used to be, not that I want to be her, she thought. That was ten years ago. That little girl didn't know anything but servicing other people. Cheering for football players, dating a football player, and being the perfect daughter of a football player. Obsessing over that damn church and then setting out on her quest to get Tim Riggins into college, for all the good that work did her.

Ten years of learning to love herself, to actually do things for herself, and to experience for herself. Leaving Tim was one of the hardest things she'd had to do, but she'd been that person, only living for the existence of someone else and she wouldn't wish it on anyone. Tim needed to see there was more to life than just her. Eventually more than just Dillon.

Now look at them.

It shouldn't have surprised her though, to see him like that. He was miserable. He missed Rue, he was so in love with Rue. For all the pain and suffering they'd gone through since her birth, he'd always been there and he'd never complained, not while she'd had nervous breakdowns every so many days. He just did it.

But he drank.

It wasn't because of her. It was how he'd learned to deal with his problems. Drink them away, but then you still woke up in the morning and they were still there. He still blamed himself for Rue, even though she'd long given up trying to convince him it wasn't his fault.

Or hers, but at least she was confident in that.

She should have turned and left him to sleep it off. It wouldn't be the first time, but…she loved him. She didn't want him hurting.

It was naïve to believe that he was completely fine with the situation, although that was easy to do sometimes. Tim was more aware of things than most everyone and he knew what was happening to the both of them.

I would have stayed with him all night long if he hadn't stopped that kiss, she thought, knowing her limits…and lack thereof. When it came to Tim Riggins and the bed, she was weak and she knew it.

Lyla pulled her SUV into the subdivision of her father's house, bringing it to a stop in front of the house, looking sideways at the home. It was cookie cutter; there was nothing great about it. It was a nice area of Dillon…wealthy, if you could call Dillon that.

Not too far from her old neighborhood, where she was the Queen Bee, the perfect and happy and perky girl with the perfect boyfriend that the entire town adored. We could rule the world with our smiles and perfect hair, she thought with a chuckle, looking down at her hands.

They would celebrate all weekend long about what happened ten years ago. Maybe she should celebrate it too. Ten years ago was a wakeup call. Her entire life crashed and burned, just like Jason's did, the perfect couple on the pedestal falling to the ground.

She just found it amusing, maybe, otherwise she'd start crying, and that ten years later, here she was, her life crashing again. My life, she thought, hitting her head against the headrest. It did no good to mope about it.

It amused her to some extent that she was crying over Tim Riggins. Ten years…good Lord. That never would have crossed her mind. Her boyfriend's alcoholic best friend who slept with every girl in Dillon, cheated on his girlfriend, if you could call Tyra that most of the time because she was cheating on him usually, and looking at her from time to time with that sad expression on his face, looking far older and wiser than his 16 years.

Lyla climbed out of the SUV, gathering her bags, walking up to the house and unlocking the front door. "Daddy?" she called out. It was still relatively early, but he should have gotten Rue her dinner. She'd get her a bath and bedtime. "I'm home."

Buddy stuck his head out of the kitchen, giving a wave. "We're doing the dishes."

"Oh you are?" she laughed, dragging her feet into the kitchen, the comfortable clog shoes she wore at the hospital thudding on the linoleum. She clapped her hands when she saw Rue putting a dish in the dishwasher, sitting in her wheelchair. "You're such a good girl helping your Grandpa! Are you having fun?"

"Yes," Rue giggled, taking another dish and setting it in the dishwasher. She looked at it and clapped her hands again, holding them up. "Momma. Up, up."

Okay, putting dishes away was no longer fun now that Mommy's here, she thought, leaning down to pick her up, patting her back and giving her a kiss on the lips. Rue pursed her lips again for another kiss, because she liked her strawberry lip-gloss.

Lyla cuddled her close, glancing at the time on the microwave clock. It was about time for bath and bed. "You ready to go to sleep Rue?" she asked, carrying her upstairs and into the bathroom.

"No, I want a story and bathtime."

"You do like bathtime."

"I'm a pirate!"

Lyla laughed, kissing her temple. "Yes, you're a pirate. Let's go to your pirate ship, Captain Rue."

It was a long process, to get Rue ready for bed, because they also had to deal with her bathroom routine, to train her body, which was pretty well trained, on when to go to the bathroom. As well as the bath itself, which Rue could sit in all day, splashing around and playing with just about every single bath toy in the world.

The good thing about bathtime, was once she was out and in her fluffy towel, that was it. Rue was yawning and out like a light one story later.

Lyla closed the book they were reading, setting the Beatrix Potter volume on the bookcase beside the bed, leaning over and tugging a blanket over her shoulders. "I love you," she whispered, leaning to kiss Rue's forehead. She rested hers against it, breathing in the scent for a moment. Baby shampoo and powder and…and innocence.

I love you so much, she thought again, giving her another kiss and standing, adjusting the railing of the bed and leaving the room, cracking the door and ensuring that she had the monitor on, and the companion monitor in her room.

She made her way back downstairs, finding Buddy cleaning up the living room, folding up physical therapy equipment and putting toys in the chest in the corner. "Daddy I can do that," she whispered.

"Get off your feet Lyla. You've been on them all day, only to come home and be on them some more, I'll take care of this."

I love you too Daddy. She smiled, sitting back in his recliner, almost moaning in pleasure at the release she got from getting off her feet. Her eyes closed and she breathed deeply, hearing her dad puttering around beside her.

When she opened her eyes, Buddy was on the couch, watching her, smiling softly. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing. You just…you constantly surprise me baby. In good ways."

"Yeah," she mumbled, stretching back again, her eyes closing. "I'm always taking care of someone."

"No, you're not. You're just…you take every problem that life throws at you and you make good of it. You don't collapse. I love you very much for it sweetheart."

Lyla swished her mouth around for a second. "Daddy."

"Yes baby?"

She reached beneath her t-shirt, removing the wedding ring, fiddling with it on the chain. She turned it in her fingers, studying the diamonds, glinting in the light coming in from the kitchen. She squeezed it tight. "Daddy…what did you think when I told you that I was marrying Tim?"

After she found out she was pregnant, almost nine weeks to the day that she'd been with Tim…she'd gone to that house unsure what to expect. Within about fifteen minutes he'd proposed, essentially, and she said she'd make arrangements.

She'd come back…it was a Thursday when she told him, but she returned the next day and that's when the real talking started.

* * *

_She'd already told him. _

_That had been a knockdown drag-out fight._

_He'd wanted to know how she even got pregnant; she'd snapped that it wasn't exactly like they didn't do what you did to make a baby. He said he thought she was on the pill. She said it wasn't always effective. He didn't really believe that. He said that he had stuff to do, this was messing it up. She said, duh, what about her life too?_

_She knew that if she told him, he wouldn't just up and leave…he wasn't capable of that. It was just…hard. _

_In the end, she'd left, she'd gone back to school for a week, until he called her and said that they really needed to talk about some things. She agreed; she was kind of putting off acknowledging what was happening to her. _

_Now here she was, she thought, taking a deep breath and knocking on the door again. _

_It swung open, with him smiling at her. That surprised her. "Hey, come in," he whispered, stepping aside. _

_She went into the house, pausing. She turned after a second, her hands in her pockets, waiting…on something. They stood across from each other for a few minutes more, until she cleared her throat, smiling. "We'll get better at this."_

_"Yeah, uh…how…how are you?" He stepped around her, his eyes unable to break from her stomach. _

_"Eyes up Tim."_

_"Huh?"_

_She pointed to her eyes, smiling. "I'm fine. I'm not…not made of glass. Um, I have something to show you…." She reached into the front pocket of her purse, removing the black and white photo, gesturing for him to come sit beside her on the couch. _

_Once he was seated, she turned the photo to him, pointing. "That's the baby."_

_He gingerly took the photo from her, staring down at it, cocking his head slightly. "That's the baby?" he asked, incredulous._

_"Yeah. It's kind of fuzzy, um…the doctor said that things look good, um…there's kind of a shadow on the spine, I guess, I had some weird bloodwork results so I have another appointment in a couple weeks and she said we can check it out then and see if it's just a shadow or…something, but she said it's probably nothing." I'm rambling, she realized. She sat on her hands, waiting for him to say something._

_He just smiled down at the picture, until he giggled. "That's seriously inside you right now?" he asked. _

_A giggled escaped her lips. "Yes," she said. She looked down at her stomach, leaning back at little, her fingers spread over it. Her gaze lifted to his. "Yes. That's inside of me."_

_"We made this thing on this picture here?"_

_"That's how it works Tim." _

_"Pretty crazy," he whispered, setting the picture on the table. He leaned back, settling into the worn cushions. He closed his eyes, his face tilted up to the ceiling. She sat against the armrest, her knees drawing up to her chin. What were they going to do?_

_He turned his head a little, whispering. "I'm not going to be one of those dads that just…sees the kid on weekends Garrity. I don't want to be a bank. Money or…or otherwise."_

_"Tim," she whispered, her eyes closing. She sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees, her chin resting atop them. "You're not a sperm donor. Or a bank for money, I…I still have school and I am going to work as long as I can and go to school as long as I can…in Austin and then…" There's no way a baby can fit in her teeny little studio apartment. At this point in time, Tim made more money than she did. He had room, he had…_

_This house would be perfect for kids, she thought, glancing around. She sensed the answer to their problems was right in front of her, but she…she didn't want him to ask it. He didn't want this any more than she did. This was upsetting his plans as well._

_She cleared her throat, whispering. "Tim, you can…I don't want to derail you from anything you may have with…with someone else." Her eyes lifted to his, waiting. _

_He shook his head. "There's no one else Garrity. Not…not anymore."_

_"Oh. I'm sorry."_

_"I'm not." He sat up, turning towards her, his eyes fixating on hers. They were very deep, she thought, staring into the hazel. He was wearing a black t-shirt. It made them look just as black. He reached to thread his fingers into hers. Don't, she thought, seeing the gears working as he frowned, looking down at her hand. _

_This is just something that happened; don't make it bigger than it is, she thought. Would it be nice? Probably. Her child would have his name, legally. There would be that vow…those things were important to her. _

_"Don't," she whispered, when he leaned forward a little. She squeezed his hand. "Tim, please, this isn't necessary."_

_"I know it isn't, but I want to do it, okay? Just let me…let me do this before you say no, okay?" He looked like his heart was about to break in front of her again. He folded his hands around hers, their eyes meeting again. "Lyla Garrity and…and baby inside of Lyla Garrity…"_

_She giggled, biting at her lower lip. "Yes?"_

_He cocked his head slightly, whispering. "I don't want this kid to be out there…I don't want to miss things and…and I don't want to be like my mom or dad so…I think…I think we should get married." _

_"Tim, that's not a reason."_

_It would be so nice, she thought, her hand squeezing his tighter. Maybe this was some sign of some sort. One night together, just for old time's sake, and this came from it? It wouldn't be the first time that two people got married because…because they "had" to. _

_My father is going to go insane. So would her mother. _

_She bit her lip hard, trying not to smile. "Tim, what about…it wasn't like we were together with this."_

_"We can be together because of it," he said. He reached his hand to her cheek; hers covered his. Their foreheads touched lightly. "Say yes Lyla."_

_Say yes._

_"What…what are we going to say?" _

_"Say to what?"_

_"To people. They're going to wonder, I mean…you probably haven't been a monk and I'm just starting graduate school…they're going to know something is up."_

_He held her face in his hands, grinning. "That a yes?"_

_"It's…" It was a yes. She covered her face with her hands, shaking her head, whispering. "Yes." She nodded, smiling again. "Yes, it's a yes." _

_He smiled, long and slow, wrapping his arms around her tight. "Good. Now what?"_

_Now we plan a courthouse wedding. We tell my dad…you tell your family…Lyla closed her eyes, holding him, her forehead resting against the crook of his neck. _

_Something occurred to her as he got up from the couch, talking about how she could stay in Austin until the baby was born, but he'd get one of the rooms ready and it wouldn't be so bad. _

_During most marriage proposals people say they loved each other. She frowned a little. He didn't say it. _

_Neither did she._

* * *

And a week after that, she sat at her father's bar, and told him about how she'd be marrying Tim. To his shock, of course.

She'd wondered what had gone through his head then, when she told him that. In fact, she'd kind of dreaded it.

Buddy sighed, lifting his feet up to the coffee table. He waited a moment, whispering. "I was disappointed."

She drew in a sharp breath, but refrained from speaking, allowing him to continue, which in an unfamiliar Buddy Garrity way, he did slowly and deliberately.

"I wanted you to go to college and to travel and to be this great big person. To have everything you ever wanted in your life before you settled down and got married. I didn't want you to marry someone who…who as much as I respected and…" Buddy rolled his eyes. "Loved…like Tim…I didn't want you to be with him anymore. I thought you were over him. You'd find someone different."

Lyla shifted her weight in the chair, drawing her feet beneath her, listening intently.

"So baby when you sat me down and told me that you were marrying Tim Riggins, I knew two things in that moment. Well, I knew one thing, but suspected the other. You…you wanted it done so fast and you were so young…" He glanced her way, smiling a little. "You were pregnant. I didn't say anything, but thought it."

"Yeah," she breathed.

"And I did know for sure though, one very important thing."

She cocked her head. "Yeah?"

"You and Tim Riggins…" he sighed, smiling up at the ceiling. "Baby, you and Tim Riggins had the real thing. That's what I thought when you said that. Otherwise, why would you marry him when you were 23 and you still had your whole life ahead of you? Graduate school and your certifications and…and I'm not an idiot Lyla, I…I wanted you to find yourself. You still had to do that."

"And rather than just mope and mourn, or do this on your own, you actually married Tim, you had your baby, and the entire time, you worked and you studied and you have been dealing with a special needs child who…" Buddy sighed. "Who is perfect and now you're coping with Tim…"

He trailed off, no longer speaking on that topic.

Lyla already knew his opinion on the matter. For someone who cheated on her mother all the time and who treated marriage like his businesses, which occasionally didn't do so well but often times were fine, Buddy didn't believe in the idea of her divorcing Tim.

Not that she'd gone…official on it. It was something she'd told Tim.

Maybe hoping he'd man up or something. See it as an ultimatum.

It backfired, now she wasn't sure what to do. They had problems. Serious, serious problems she was wondering were even worth keeping the marriage going about. Right now she needed a break.

Six weeks later, she missed him, and she still wasn't sure what she wanted.

The recliner squeaked as she sat forward, pushing to her feet and going over to hug and kiss her dad goodnight. "Thank you Daddy," she whispered, leaving him in the living room and going upstairs.

After a long shower, she crawled into the bed that used to be hers when she was a girl. The bedroom was still decked out like she was 16, because in her father's mind, she still was, so he still kept what she'd left behind when she moved out to Vanderbilt. She'd taken down many of the photos and put them in boxes, which were now somewhere in Tim's house.

All of her things were in the house, really, what little she had when she left Vanderbilt. She'd been in dorms her whole time there. Maybe that was a clue, she didn't even really set roots while she was there.

Lyla crawled into the bed, drawing the sheets up over her shoulders. She leaned over and flicked out the light, closing her eyes and settling back into the mattress. Her hand reached out to her right, to the empty space in the bed she still always left there.

A moment later, her eyes opened, staring at that space.

She got out of the bed and opened up her dresser, her fingers folding around a flannel shirt. She tugged it on over her tank top and shorts, wrapping it tight around her and went back into the bed, snuggling into it, despite the AC blowing down on her and the mugginess that still hung in the air from the fading August summer.

Within seconds she was asleep.


	7. Why Do I Bother

**Chapter 7: Why Do I Bother?**

Jason was pretty much halfway to Tim's, taking the long way around Dillon, not necessarily wanting to get back immediately, especially if it meant dealing with a drunk Riggins.

The silence of his drive, with the wind blowing lightly through the truck's lowered windows, was interrupted by his phone ringing. He grinned, seeing the face on the screen and leading over, hitting the button so it went to the truck's Bluetooth system.

"Hey Noah!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep and Mom said I could call you. Did you see Grams and Poppa?"

"I did, we talked about you."

Noah giggled. "What'd you tell them?"

Jason loved this part of his days, when he got to just "talk" if you could call it that, with Noah. At eight, he was keen on hanging with his friends or playing football or baseball or really any sport he could get involved with. He'd even played soccer for two years. He still made sure though that every night they talked for just a few minutes about their day.

That way he didn't miss anything, he thought sadly, because it seemed like he really had missed a lot of Noah's life.

They talked for several minutes about Noah's first few days of school, which were okay, but he had to learn fractions that year and hated fractions. He was going to play football for Pee Wee, which was excellent, and he'd already made a few new friends from a different class.

"Okay Daddy, I have to go, Mommy wants to talk to you."

"Alright buddy, I love you."

"Love you too, here's Mom."

The phone shuffled a minute and Jason sighed, waiting for Erin to get on the phone. "Jason," she said, clearing her throat. "Um, when are you going to be back next week?"

"Monday morning, I have the first flight out of Midland. Why?"

"I was just…I need to talk Noah to the doctor for his yearly check-up and I am going to be busy with job interviews, I was hoping you'd be back in time to take him, but it doesn't sound like it."

Don't make that tone, he thought, shaking his head, pulling the truck into an empty parking lot, not wanting to drive while they were discussing these things. "Don't imply I'm not there for him," he said.

"I'm not, Jason, I'm just saying, you decided to run out of town for the weekend…"

"No, I told you I had this planned, I needed to come back here, Tim is…"

"Tim, Tim, Tim!" Erin exclaimed. She laughed hard. "You know why we divorced Jason? Why you wondered that in the courtroom and in couple's counseling all the damn time? Because you're obsessed with this…with everything but us. It's like you did everything you could to prove to me that you were worth it and you start doing that with everyone else, including your best friend, who, quite honestly, hasn't seemed like much of a best friend since you guys were in high school!"

I am not having this conversation on the phone, on the side of the road, Jason thought, shaking his head again and again, gazing out the window. He sighed, glancing down at the phone. "Tim needs me right now Erin."

"And what about your son? What about your family, Jason?" She sobbed. "I'm not going to fight about this again and again, because we're done now. Thank you for letting me know you will be back in the morning. I will talk to you Monday…you can get Noah in the evening, after five."

He nodded, whispering. "Okay."

"Goodbye Jason."

"Bye." He disconnected the call, leaning in his seat, his hand still on the handle of the steering wheel. He closed his eyes tight. Damnit.

It reached a point where Erin just wanted the divorce so…so he let her have it. If that's what would make her happy, he just…he'd let her be happy. He'd convinced her more times than he could count that his job wasn't just what he was doing, it was for all of them, but…in the end that didn't matter.

* * *

_"Jason? There's an urgent phone call on the line."_

_He looked up from the contract he was reviewing with another agent, shaking his head. "Just take a message Caroline."_

_Caroline, his assistant, cleared her throat, her voice dropping. "It's…it's a gentleman from Texas? He's not taking no for an answer. He says he needs to talk to you, he keeps calling you Six."_

_Tim!? _

_What the hell was Tim doing calling him? They hadn't talked in about a month and a half, not since he…told him about that weird thing with him and Lyla. Said they were getting married. He hadn't called back since. _

_He cleared his throat, nodding. "Thank you Caroline, I'll take it here." He reached for the phone in the center of the conference room table, punching the hold button. "Tim?"_

_"I'm having a girl."_

_What was he talking about? He turned away from his coworkers, both of whom were junior associates while he was now a senior associate, and both of whom politely began to converse between themselves, leaving him to the conversation._

_He turned away, whispering into the receiver. "Tim, I am working, you can't call me here." How the hell did you even get this number anyway?_

_"I'm having a girl and she's got a spine problem." Tim laughed. He wasn't drunk, he was sober, he realized, frowning. _

_"Tim, what are you talking about? Lyla's pregnant, you guys…you're having a girl? Congratulations, now…what is this about her spine?" _

_"I don't know, it's all over my head, all this medical stuff, but Lyla's like…she's pretending she didn't even hear it, she's back at school and I'm just…" Tim laughed again. "My kid's going to be in a damn wheelchair, Six! There's something with her spine, it's twisted or it's outside or…I don't know, I can't remember what the doctor said."_

_"Hang on." He hit hold, excused himself, and wheeled himself out and back down to his office, with a window and everything, overlooking the financial district. He picked up the phone again. "Okay. Explain to me as best as you can."_

_Tim told him all he knew, the baby was a girl, but her spine was on the outside or something. She had to have surgery right after she was born and she'd probably have problems ever walking. He listened as best as he could, he told Tim it would be okay, all those stupid sayings that he'd heard more than once in his life._

_Late that evening, he remained at his desk, searching flights to Texas right around the due date. He was going to be there. Tim and Lyla were having a baby. He already missed their wedding and he wasn't going to miss this._

_The door pushed open and he looked up, smiling slightly. "Erin, what…what are you doing here?" He clicked 'confirm' on the flight, turning his chair around and wheeling from around his desk._

_Erin stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. She cleared her throat, her eyes closing. "Noah is with some friends tonight. I came into the city to talk to you…this isn't working Jason."_

_What isn't working?_

_She caught sight of the computer, frowning. "You're going to Texas?"_

_"Yeah, um…Tim, my friend, remember him? He and his wife, Lyla…they…apparently their daughter has, it sounds like spina bifida, a pretty rare form of it. She probably won't be able to walk," he whispered. He tapped his knuckles on his knee. "So I'm going to Texas when she's born, to be there with them."_

_Erin turned away from him, walking to the awards and certificates he'd gotten in his short time with the firm. She tapped the base of one of them, looking over her shoulder. "You didn't want to talk to me about that before you made plans?"_

_"It's just for a weekend."_

_"This is what I'm talking about." She turned away from his various achievements, which he prided himself in. All his life he had trophies and awards for football; now this was something else, something for his new life. _

_I am not my chair; he thought idly, his hands on the wheels. "What are you talking about?" he retorted._

_"I'm talking about…" Erin pushed her fingers through her hair, folding them in front of her lips, whispering. "About maybe going to counseling. To talk through some of our problems."_

_"We don't have problems."_

_She closed her eyes, laughing. "The fact that you just said that tells me that we do have problems."_

_He turned his chair around, returning to his desk. "I have some more work left to do. I'll be home in a couple hours, okay? I'll have a company car take me."_

_Erin went to the door, leaning against it, whispering. "I love you Jason, but this job? It doesn't love you. You don't need to work like this for us."_

_Yes, I do, he thought, lifting his eyes back up to her. "I'll see you in a few hours," he whispered. He printed off his confirmation for the flight back to Dillon. _

_When he looked up again, she was gone. _

* * *

Jason drove through town, coming to a stop when he saw two people leaving Fran's. "Hey," he called out, laughing. "Coach!"

Eric and Tami stopped in their tracks, before Tami screamed, running towards the truck. "Jason!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck through the window, hugging tight. "Honey, we've been wondering when you would come find us! It's so good to see you, how are you?"

"Pretty good, just got done with my parents," he said, shaking Coach's hand. It was so good to see them. "How are you guys? How's Pennsylvania treating you?"

Eric shook his head, grumbling. "It snows."

"Yeah, I heard that. It really isn't that far from New York, you guys need to drop by the house sometime, when we get back." He'd seen them a few times over the year, mostly when he was in Philadelphia meeting with a couple clients who were with the Eagles.

"You hungry Jason? We were just going to go get some ice cream, you want to join us?" Tami asked.

"I'm good, thanks. I need to get back to Tim's."

Eric flinched a little. "Yeah, we were going to see if we could drop by there tomorrow, see how he's doing."

"He's okay," Jason lied through his teeth. He smiled again. "You guys seen Rue yet?"

Tami shook her head, but smiled wide anyway. "No, I hear she's doing really well? You know, Matt and Julie's son is just about her age, he's almost two, so maybe they can play together tomorrow at the pep rally. We'll let them know."

"Did you bring Noah?" Eric asked.

Ah…this was usually where the news about the divorce came up. Jason smiled tightly. "Actually…um, Noah is with Erin in New York. It's…it's her weekend with him."

Tami cocked her head. He knew she'd pick up on it first. "Weekend?"

"Yeah, um, the custody arrangement is…is every other weekend. It's been like that for about a month or so now." Jason shrugged, when Coach's look softened, concerned. "It's fine. It's all fine, um…I should get going, but I'll see you guys tomorrow morning at the pep rally?"

"Yes of course," Tami said, kissing his cheek. "We'll see you tomorrow."

Coach shook his hand again. "I'll see the both of you tomorrow. Tell Tim I need to talk to him."

I'm sure you do, Jason thought, nodding and saying goodbye to the both of them, driving back to the house. He got out of the truck, wheeled himself up into the house, and made his way upstairs using the chair lift.

The door to Tim's room was open, so he wheeled himself inside, finding Tim passed out on the bed, still fully dressed, hugging a pillow against him. He sighed, wheeling over and reaching to lift a sheet up over Tim's shoulders. How sad are we, he thought, turning away.

As he made his way to the door, he paused, glancing at the dresser next to the door, where Tim's phone was vibrating. He glanced over, the noise not doing a thing to even stir his friend.

He reached for it, looking at the screen.

_Tyra_

He glanced over his shoulder, scowling, and wheeling out of the room, lifting the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Um…Tim?"

"Hey Tyra, it's Jason."

"Oh…oh Jason! Oh my gosh, wow…um, how…how are you?" Tyra covered her surprise quickly, not even letting him answer before asking where Tim was.

Jason looked over his shoulder and then frowned a little. You bastard. "Tyra, he's passed out. He'll be at the pep rally tomorrow, with…with Lyla, if you want to see him."

Tyra was quiet for a second. She chuckled. "You think Tim's cheating on Lyla with me?"

Ten years, maybe they all weren't really very different, just living in different circumstances, he thought, closing his eyes. "No Tyra, I…I don't know."

"Well, tell Tim I called. I won't be there this weekend, unfortunately, so…it was nice to talk to you Jason, I hope you're doing well."

He said goodbye and set the phone back on the dresser.

"Answering my phone now Street?"

Damn.

Jason looked over at Tim, who was sitting up against the headboard, blinking at him through the darkness. He shrugged. "Just checking Tim." He chuckled. "So…are you cheating on Lyla now?"

Tim didn't answer, glancing out the window. He smiled, long and slow. "You really think that low of me Street?"

"Wouldn't be the first time you betrayed someone you love."

The smile faltered, but returned a second later. Tim's voice cracked when he spoke. "And it wouldn't be the first time you didn't let someone you love explain a situation. Just leave me alone Jason."

"You're some friend, you know? I don't know why I bother with you."

"I don't know why you bother with me either," Tim said, getting out of the bed and walking into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Jason shook his head and wheeled himself into the guest room, slamming that door just as loud.

He lifted himself out of his chair onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He missed Noah. He missed Erin.

And he missed Tim.


	8. Written in the Scars on Our Hearts

_**A.N.**_: Thanks for the reviews! This chapter is a bit of a turning point and the rest of the fic goes from here. Enjoy. :)

* * *

**Chapter 8: Written In The Scars on Our Hearts**

I hate pep rallies.

Tim ignored people saying his name, moving through the crowd, holding Rue in one arm and her bag slung over his shoulder. He waved at a couple of Rally Girls he was fairly certain he'd slept with, seeing them start to make their way around people, already gushing with that look most women got when they saw him with Rue.

He mumbled to himself, shifting Rue to his other hip, her baby bag bouncing against his shoulder blade. "I hate people."

"Me too," Rue agreed.

He chuckled, brushing his lips over her temple. "Yeah, you hate people too? You really are my daughter." Another former Rally Girl called his name, making her way towards him. He gulped, not wanting to deal with her. If he remembered right, she was the one that Lyla about body-slammed more than once in the hallways just for looking in his direction.

He glanced sideways at Rue. "Want to disappear?"

"Yes," Rue answered.

He slipped around a bunch of Boosters, smiling wide when he saw Matt and Julie. "Hey guys."

"Tim!" Julie exclaimed, grabbing hold of her son's shoulders when he tried to make a beeline away from her. She hauled him up into her arms, holding him like a log while he giggled, kicking his feet, like he was swimming. "Henry Taylor Saracen," she warned. "You behave yourself."

Matt shook what hand he had available, waving at Rue, who immediately buried her face into his shoulder. "She still has a crush on me, huh?" he asked, smiling at her.

"No, she's three, she doesn't like anyone she doesn't know," Tim joked. He tweaked Rue's nose. "Say hi to Uncle Matt, huh?"

Rue lifted her fingers. "Hi."

"Timothy! Let me see that baby girl!"

Tim smiled when he saw Mrs. Taylor making her way over. He kissed Rue's cheek. "You remember Mrs. Taylor?" Probably not, but he figured that Rue, like most people, would immediately fall for Tami. He lifted her up a little on his hip, when Rue began to claw at his shoulder. Apparently not.

Tami reached over, lightly tapping Rue's shoulder. Rue turned her head, but then shoved it back into his neck. "Oh honey, you don't need to be scared of me, shh, shh, come here, come to Tami…that's a good girl."

Despite whining a little at leaving his arms, Rue folded herself slowly into Tami, her head eventually resting on Tami's shoulder, like she'd been there forever. She smiled a little, lifting her fingers to wave at him. "Hi Daddy."

"Hi," he replied.

"Tim, let me see her bag, I'll go show her off some more so you can talk with people."

"Yeah, just…Buddy's got her wheelchair, in case you want to put her down…" He bit his lip nervously, reaching to fix one of Rue's sandals. He hated leaving her, especially with people she didn't really know. "You be a good girl."

Rue was already falling in love with Tami and ignoring him. "Bye Rue!" he called. He got no response. He called out again, gesturing towards Matt and Julie. "Rue I'll be right here, okay?"

It didn't seem to do anything to Rue, who was already twirling a lock of Tami's hair around her finger, smiling and giggling at something Tami said to her, carrying her off to join the rest of the crowd.

God, I really hate these things, Tim thought, shoving his hands into his pockets. He glanced over at Matt and Julie, who were still watching him. "What?"

"You look like you're doing okay," Julie commented. She lifted her shoulder, her voice dropping. "You talking to Tyra?"

No, he thought immediately, his hand folding around his phone. He removed his hand, pushing his fingers through his hair. "All this stuff, huh, pretty stupid?" he mumbled, trying to change the subject from his marriage woes. Or Rue. It seemed people could only talk about those two things with him these days.

Thankfully Matt got the hint and began talking about his new art showing, how he'd finally been able to get into some small gallery in Chicago and how it was a pretty big deal. Julie talked about her journalism, she was doing something called freelance.

It seemed everyone was doing something.

I was supposed to at least be doing something, he thought, spying Jason talking with Buddy and a few of the Boosters. He broke his gaze from his best friend, nodding at something Julie said about how weird it was that a decade ago they were all in high school and now they were all married with kids.

"Pretty weird," he agreed.

"Hell Tim, I mean, what? Five years ago you seemed like you didn't know what you were going to do," Julie pressed.

Yes, I didn't know what I was going to do. I was wandering around with no plans, no future, and everything in the gutter. Look at me now, he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth closed. Still wandering around with no plans. He had his house, yes. He had a job, sure. He hadn't broken any laws.

Just another washed up football player who married his high school sweetheart after knocking her up. Would soon be paying her child support and fighting for custody for the next fifteen years.

He excused himself from Matt and Julie, really needing something to drink. No, he thought, stopping in front of the truck with the kegs. He backed up. No drinking. Not with Rue here.

"Hey you."

Turning quickly, he froze, seeing Tyra standing in front of him. The surprise of seeing her crossed his face, before he smiled a little. "Hey," he answered.

A light gust of wind blew back the bangs of her reddish brown dyed hair. She reached to tuck it behind her ear a little, some bracelets on her wrist jingling. In the spirit of the weekend, she was wearing a t-shirt that said "Dillon" across it, along with jeans, and a pair of beat-up boots. Despite looking the part, Tyra had been gone long enough from Dillon to seem a bit of an outsider now.

For that, Tim was kind of happy for her.

Tyra shoved her fingers into her back belt loops, walking towards him, frowning hard. "You doing alright?"

"Fine."

"Where's Rue?"

"Mrs. Taylor has her…um, Lyla's working so…so I have her today."

Tyra nodded again. What are you doing here, he wondered. You said you'd stay away. She blew out a hard breath, answering that question without him having to ask. "Last night, Jason seemed…I didn't want him to think anything that wasn't true, Tim."

"Yeah, I know."

"You probably didn't tell him any different."

You know me well, he thought, shaking his head. "Nope."

She sighed, gesturing towards her. "Come on," she said, looping her hand around his forearm, leading him from the crowd of people away from the stage, where the cheerleaders and Rally Girls were dancing. They broke away from the group, finding a spot near the bleachers, away from just about everyone. Tyra turned, letting go of his arm. She pursed her lips, waiting.

What do you want, he thought, shoving his hands through his hair. He wished it were a bit longer; it was easier to do. His hands looped around the back of his neck, eyes closing. "Jason thinks I'm cheating on Lyla with you," he whispered.

"Does he realize how idiotic that sounds? That you'd do something like that to her? Or for that matter, that I'd go along with it?"

"I don't know."

Tyra shook her head, arms over her chest, whispering. "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing."

"Not the real reason you drive to Austin every other weekend to see me? Call me in the middle of the damn night?" Tyra breathed. She frowned again, shaking her head and whispering. "There's no shame in saying the real reason Tim."

Yes, there is, for me, he thought, rubbing at his forehead. He closed his eyes, not wanting to get into this. He looked up, seeing someone watching from near the high school. "Oh come on," he mumbled.

"What?" Tyra asked. She turned around, her face falling. "Shit."

This was going to…not be very fun, he thought, processing the information and trying to focus on how to deal with it. Brutal honesty, maybe…he wasn't sure if that was even worth it anymore.

A few seconds later, Lyla appeared, wearing scrubs and holding her car keys. "Hey Tyra," she whispered, but didn't look at her.

The look she was giving him was pure hurt. It was always like a stab in the gut, when she wrinkled her brow, her dark eyes shining. It was like he…just kicked a puppy or something. He never, ever wanted to hurt her, but it seemed that's all he did. He closed his eyes briefly. "Lyla."

She let out a gasp, but it sounded more like a sob, covering her forehead with her hand, her other going to her hip, taking a few shallow breaths, finally shaking her head. "You know…I thought you were different Tim. I really believed that we were…different."

"Lyla, no," he said, but not as strong as he probably needed to say it. Please, no, he begged silently. "Lyla…it's really not what you think…"

"I cannot keep doing this," Lyla snapped. She reached behind her neck, unclasping the chain. His stomach dropped; he knew what was on that chain. Despite the protests, she slipped off the ring. She tossed it at him. "Catch."

Tim grabbed hold of the ring, the diamonds burning into his palm. No. No, please, no. Don't do this. He stepped towards her, grabbing her arm. "Lyla! This isn't…it's not what you think. Please don't do this. Please, just listen to me! I'm not cheating on you!"

It did nothing. Lyla shook his arm off of hers, looking over his shoulder at Tyra, who hadn't said a word from where she'd been standing. "You know Tyra, you can have him. He was yours in the first place, right? I just came in and stole him in high school. Did it again a few years later, right?" Lyla laughed, backing up, her voice cool. "I'm not doing this with you anymore Tim. I'm too tired of this dance."

She turned completely, running back to the school, turning and screaming at him. "Do not come after me!"

He turned to Tyra, who was just staring at him, eyes wide with horror. What just happened?

"Tim," she snapped, pointing her finger to Lyla's retreating back. "You have got to tell her."

Yes…yes he had to tell her.

"Lyla!" he yelled, running after her without thinking. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around, but she tried to hit him, pushing at his hands. He let her go, holding his hands up in defense. "Lyla, you have got to listen to me, I'm not seeing Tyra!"

"No? You told me that she was just a sister-in-law Tim, just a friend…I…" Lyla pushed her fingers through her hair, tears trickling down her cheeks. She wiped hard on them. "I'm so tired Tim. After last night…I thought…I don't know what I thought, I guess…"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that they were getting a few watchers from the group. Yes, come look at Tim Riggins and Lyla Garrity having another fight. The sad and pathetic mess they were.

She dropped her hands to her thighs, eyes closing. "Tim, please. You said she wasn't going to be here and there you are with her and I just…I can't do this anymore. We slept together for old time's sake and I got pregnant, okay? I got pregnant and we got married and you were with Tyra and…I'm the other woman, so…just forget it."

She turned away, going back to the other side of the high school, to the parking lot where the pep rally was taking place.

Tim closed his eyes, holding the ring tight in his hand.

Tyra came up to stand beside him, her arms around her. "Tim, tell her. The two of you need to have a conversation."

"Leave me alone Tyra."

Her voice clipped hard into him when she spoke, ignoring his protest. "I won't pretend that it didn't hurt when you told me she was pregnant and you guys were getting married, but all we were Tim? We were just friends who slept together when we were bored and in the same location. You married her and it wasn't because she was pregnant. You need to let her know." She sighed hard. "And Tim you have got to tell her why you visit me. I don't know why you didn't in the first place. I've respected your privacy, but if you don't? I will."

Tyra cleared her throat, whispering. "You have to tell her it wasn't because she was pregnant. You guys have got to have a conversation, you haven't had one in four years."

It didn't matter.

It didn't matter the reason for anything, because even though he wanted to marry her and be with her…Lyla accepted it because she was pregnant. She was the one with the values and the morals that he didn't have.

How did life get so screwed up? Ten years ago they were going to be happy. Jason and Lyla would get married and he'd be the caretaker of the ranch they'd all have together. The three of them, living life together…what did he say? They'd rise up.

"Forget it Tyra," he whispered, walking away, holding the ring tight in his palm.

They'd rise up?

Ha.


	9. The Fire Alarm

**A/N: ** Thanks so much for the reviews! :) I know this is a bit of a strange fic, but it's been in my head forever and finally was able to write it all down. This chapter is probably my favorite of the whole fic. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 9: The Fire Alarm**

I am a fool.

Please don't make a fool out of me, she'd begged to him once. She'd begged him again, after Rue was born, when he started to drink more, when he'd be out all night, and when all she needed was someone to hold her and tell her it would be okay when in reality it might not.

She'd begged him to not make a fool out of her. The girl who left Dillon, the fallen angel, settling back down again, pregnant by the town's bad boy. A complete cliché.

He said he wouldn't. Not ever. He didn't the first time, right?

No, he didn't, but now he had. The whole town probably knew by now what happened down near the bleachers. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions…Tim had never cheated on her before. He was different around her. He hid it from the rest of the world and only she got to see the real him.

But this time it wasn't high school. This time she was the one who had come in and upset his relationship with someone else. This was an entirely different situation under different circumstances and…

And she wasn't sure what he would do now.

Lyla wiped at her eyes, driving away. She took a break from work just so she could see a few of the people and make an appearance. She hadn't seen Tim, until Matt Saracen told her that he'd gone down to the bleachers with Tyra.

Tyra?

She'd gone over and seen them. That was the last straw. She knew they still talked and Billy slipped once that they saw each other now and then. Tim didn't tell her. Didn't tell her that that's where he went when he disappeared, although after today, she was 100% sure that's where he went when he up and disappeared.

She told him after that one time at dinner, when Billy slipped, that if he ever cheated on her, she'd ensure that he never slept with another woman again. That she'd make sure he wouldn't see Rue. They would be done forever.

Tim had joked that he'd learned long ago to never mess with her, because she had a crazy streak a mile wide.

Apparently he didn't even listen to himself.

Lyla drove fast, her foot hard on the accelerator. She shoved down the urge she had to take a golf club to his truck.

She had to get back to work.

She fumbled with her phone, dialing Jason. A moment later, he picked up, yelling over the sound of music and people cheering. She thought she heard commentary in the background about the state game. They were probably listening to it again.

"Lyla?"

"I need you to help Tim with Rue tonight, I'm really sorry Jason, but I just…right now I need to go back to work and then I have to seriously think."

"What…what's going on?"

She laughed, pulling the car over to the side of the road. Right now she was so angry, she wasn't sure what she would do. Driving was probably not the best solution. She got out, beginning to pace into a field. "What's going on?!"

This wasn't fair to him, but he was an easy target. Tim's best friend, the person who knew both of them as well as she and Tim knew each other.

"What's going on Jason is that your best friend, my so-called husband is screwing his ex-girlfriend on the side! He hasn't changed from the idiot I cheated with in high school! You know what Jason? You're not much better. You're ignoring this and you're trying to pretend that it's not a problem at all that you're getting a divorce! You'd rather try to fix someone else's problems rather than fix your own!"

"Lyla, do you need someone to pick you up or something?"

"No! No I don't need someone to pick me up! I stopped driving my car because I'm too tempted to go crash it into Tim's house!" she yelled. My house, she thought briefly. She stopped, grass brushing against her knees. It was nice and windy and she could see clear across to the city from the field she'd stopped in. She stomped her foot in the ground, punching the air in frustration.

"You know Jason, this six week break with Tim has kind of enlightened me a bit, and maybe it's this whole nostalgia thing that's happening because of this godforsaken town's obsession with teen football idols or maybe it's the fact that you're back in town, but the three of us? The three of us sitting around that damn fire before that damn football game and talking about Texas Forever and that bullshit? What a joke that was. The three of us were never going to be anything but bent and broken people who used to love each other."

She pushed her fingers through her hair, yelling into the phone. It felt good. "My daughter's spine is broken too Jason and your stupid friend, my husband, chooses to mourn it by doing exactly what he did with you! He blames himself, he blames everything but the fact that it was just fate! So what does he do? He self-destructs and starts schtupping Tyra because he married me!"

Jason cleared his throat. "Are you done?"

"No I'm not done! I threw my wedding ring at him and left! He only proposed to me because I was pregnant, Jason! Tim Riggins didn't love me any more than I loved him three years ago. You can't relive high school, Jason. This town does it all the time with these stupid things but ten years ago was ten years ago and you can't go back."

"No, you can't," Jason agreed.

Lyla slumped down into the grass, crouching, looking out at the prairie. There was nothing like it in the world to her. Maybe it was living with Tim the last three years, but…she truly appreciated this place. More than she ever had before.

Her eyes fluttered shut, listening to the buzz of cicadas and the sound of the wind blowing through the grass. There was a truck horn in the distance and in the background; she could hear cheers from the high school.

Jason was quiet; he'd obviously moved from the pep rally to somewhere else at the school, somewhere more private. "Lyla, you're standing on the side of the road yelling at me about Dillon and this place and…and Tim Riggins. I'm sitting at a pep rally. You've spent the last…three years caring for someone with a broken spine. You're thinking of breaking up with one guy because you think he cheated on you when he didn't…what part of this makes you think that things have really truly changed from ten years ago?"

They haven't.

Lyla closed her eyes. "I love my daughter more than…than breathing air," she whispered. She hiccupped. "I just wonder if Tim and I would be like this if she was born with a healthy body."

"I don't know Lyla. Maybe. You guys never talked about the real reason you got married. You never even had a conversation. You still haven't had a conversation and he doesn't tell you things because…because you guys don't talk anyway." Jason waited a beat, whispering. "So why did you marry him Lyla?"

Because I loved him.

She bit her bottom lip. "Because I was pregnant."

"Really?"

No. No, I loved him. I know that now. I loved him and we were going to have a baby and…and I don't know anymore what I was even thinking back then. It terrified her. 23 and pregnant…a new job, just starting school again…

"It doesn't really matter, does it," she whispered. "Tyra's back. I broke them up Jason…they were together and Tim and I…"

"Tim and you. Not just you." Jason sighed hard. "My marriage is over Lyla. My marriage is over and I came back here to…to maybe relive some old times, but…I wanted to see my best friends and I find this mess. I feel like maybe I have gone back ten years."

What the hell am I supposed to do? She covered her forehead with her hand, shaking her head, a sob escaping from between her lips. She hiccupped. "I'm really sorry we've been terrible friends the last ten years."

"We all moved on, it happens."

"Not for us."

Jason chuckled on the other end of the phone. "Lyla, you should take the rest of the day off from work. Go back home, get a bath, do your hair or something, and relax. Rue is here…then tonight come to the game, because you and Tim…your biggest problem is communication. Dig deep Lyla and do you really believe Tim would cheat on you?"

No, no she didn't, but…anything could happen. "Did you ever think I'd cheat on you?" she breathed.

He sighed. "No, but…that was an extraordinary circumstance. Not that it was right, because it wasn't, but…Lyla that's ancient history. I never held it against you…not after I accepted it at least and…and even after I forgave Tim." He took another deep breath. "But seriously, Lyla…Tim would die before he ever did anything like that."

Then why all the secrecy around Tyra? She nodded quickly. "He wouldn't do that to me."

"I wish I was there to tell it to your face, but…I'll say it right now, because once upon a time ago, he came and said it to me. Tim is madly in love with you Lyla. Incredibly, insanely in love with you and he will always be. I lost touch with him there for a bit…during the jail thing, but even afterward…I asked why he didn't call you and you should have seen his face. He looked like he'd die before he brought you into that. Before he tried to bring you back into his life when you didn't want to be there."

Jason sighed again. "Take the day Lyla. Treat yourself. Come to the game and then maybe you guys can talk. I know it's been six weeks since you separated, but it's really been about…about as long as it's been since you left Dillon for school."

In a way it had been. Almost eight years. She closed her eyes again. "Okay."

"Do you need someone to drive you?"

"No."

"Too bad."

She heard a car horn honking and turned, laughing a little at the sight of him in the truck. She got to her feet and went to it, leaning on the open window. "Jason," she whispered.

"Get in," he ordered.

A minute later, she had her things, sitting in the passenger seat of the truck. She glanced his way and leaned over, shifting in the seat and pressing a kiss to his cheek, her head resting on his shoulder. "Thank you Jason."

Jason rested his head against hers, smiling. "You're welcome."

"I'm really sorry about you and Erin. I know I didn't…didn't seem to be when you told us."

He nodded, whispering. "I know."

It didn't need to happen. She sat up a little, her chin on his shoulder, looking up at him and whispering. "Was it something…something you really couldn't figure out?"

Jason shrugged a little, turning the truck off the main road onto one of the side streets. "We fought too much Lyla. Not over things like…like who loves each other more, which I really think is all you and Tim are fighting over, but…but serious issues. We were in counseling for two years."

"Oh, my."

"Yeah. She finally just…wanted it to end, so we ended it."

"But you didn't?"

He glanced sideways, whispering. "I moved my life up to New York for her, I poured my life into providing for her and Noah and…it wasn't enough. She was unhappy, so…we're done."

And he kept it all inside. Lyla cleared her throat. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Jason laughed, one burst of laughter. "Seriously?" He glanced down at her, his head shaking again at her frown of concern. "You were pregnant Lyla, when it started. You and Tim had just gotten married and you were pregnant and…and when I got that phone call from Tim…Lyla…"

She knew what he was going to say. After they received the confirmation about Rue, she'd gone crying to her father, while he'd gone crying to his bottle of Jack Daniels.

It was so crazy, because they'd been so happy…believe it not, she actually thought they were happy, despite their insane situation.

* * *

_"Stop that!" _

_"What? It's just a baby book."_

_"The names you are reading cannot possibly be real, besides, I'm trying to study." They were going to find out if it was a boy or a girl tomorrow and he was already reading off every single boy name from the book she'd picked up at the store a few days ago. _

_She covered the swell of her stomach, wondering if the doctor was going to tell them anything different. The last ultrasound she'd had was canceled, because she had an exam and the doctor had to reschedule anyway. Because of that, she still didn't have an answer to some of her strange hormone fluctuations or the…the shadow…_

_The doctor said the baby was still so small that things were still developing and not to worry, it was probably just a shadow._

_She'd pushed it from her mind, but now she was starting to wonder. The baby should have really started to move; according to her books and to Mindy and all the other people she'd talked to who had babies. _

_Beside her, he set the book down on the table beside the porch chair, glancing sideways. "You know something?"_

_"Hmm?" She was home for the weekend, studying for an exam she had next week. This was not how she planned on her first semester at grad school, but she was dealing. Like always. She turned a page in her textbook, making a note on the side of the page to return to it. _

_"We haven't gone on a date."_

_A date? She lifted her eyes, smiling slightly. "Oh?"_

_"We need to go on a date." _

_"What are you talking about?" _

_"Garrity, we don't have wedding rings and we're married. We don't live together and we're married." He smiled, reaching over to cover the swell of her stomach, his thumb brushing over her belly button, which was now starting to pop out. "We're having a baby."_

_"Oh we are?" she joked. "I thought I was getting fat."_

_"You're beautiful." He ran his tongue over his teeth, before suddenly jumping up from his chair and going into the house. _

_She continued to study, finally looking up when he came back outside. "What are you doing?" she asked, dropping her pen into the fold of her textbook. _

_He'd changed from t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops into an actual pair of pants and a tucked in black button down shirt. "Get dressed," he said, pointing back into the house, smiling. "Something nice."_

_"What are you doing Tim Riggins?" she demanded again, but got up, a bit curious. _

_About twenty minutes later, they were in the truck, driving away from the house. She was wearing the only dress she had that could fit over her bump, which had a ton of spandex in it, making her feel like her bump was on full display. "Where are we going again?" she asked. _

_"You'll see."_

_About an hour later, he pulled the truck up to the lake, where lights were already lit at the end of the dock. She stepped out of the truck, smiling at him and taking his offered hand, leading her down to the boat, which she found, was already stocked with food. She picked up a note, lifting it up._

_"Have fun baby bro," she read aloud, smiling at him. "You got Billy to do this?"_

_"He got out here faster, we probably passed him on the way."_

_Several minutes later they were anchored in the center of the lake, the sun setting completely in the distance. "Thank you Tim," she said, biting into the cheeseburger from Fran's, which Billy had left for them. She grinned through the mouthful of beef, which had become a weakness of hers since she found out she was pregnant. "Nice date."_

_"We never did go on date, did we," he wondered, picking a fry out of the bag. He twirled it in his fingers for a second, tossing it into the water. He turned his head back, leaning on his elbows beside her on the bench. "We…went fast. Always."_

_Story of our life, she thought, her hand over her stomach. She leaned against his chest, his arms going around her, and his hands spreading over her belly. "We got married because we got pregnant," she whispered. _

_He stiffened behind her, but said nothing. He rested his lips against her neck, whispering. "I promise I'll get you a ring."_

_"I don't need a ring."_

_"You don't need a ring, but you should have one. Something pretty." He kissed her lightly, grinning against her lips. "We're having a boy, I know it."_

_"Well we'll find out tomorrow," she giggled, turning in his arms, kissing him again. It was nice. It was…it was nice, what they were doing here. She still sometimes found it unbelievable, like a dream. _

_"Tomorrow," he whispered, kissing her again. "Baby Boy or Baby Girl."_

_"I think it's a girl. Mothers know."_

_"Hmmm, yeah…" he whispered, his hand over her belly. He frowned a little, his temple against hers. "Should the baby be moving? The books say we should feel something."_

_"I don't know." She didn't want to think of that. She bit her bottom lip. "We'll find out tomorrow."_

_Tomorrow, she thought again, her eyes closing, feeling the breeze against her face, the boat rocking lightly on the lake. She'd think of it tomorrow, right now she wanted to just lay here with him. _

_"Our first date," she mumbled. _

_"I don't know if you know this Garrity but I'm not really a fancy restaurant guy, but I know you like to get dressed up. Best of both worlds for us."_

_"Oh believe me, I know," she laughed, turning in his arms and kissing him again, shaking her head lightly. She bit her bottom lip, looking down at his eyes. He seemed happy. Content. _

_I love you, she thought, cocking her head. She was pretty sure she was falling in love with him. _

_He brushed her hair from her face, bringing her back in for a kiss. _

_She smiled again. I'm falling in love with my husband. _

* * *

"Lyla."

She turned, broken from her memory. "Yeah?"

"I was just saying…" Jason sighed. He tapped his wrist against the steering wheel. "I was just saying that…after she was born…I've never been around Tim when he cried. And he did. He was miserable, he didn't know what to say, but…he was blaming himself," Jason whispered. He glanced quickly to her, his eyes darting back to the road. "He thought it was his fault."

"It's no one's fault," she whispered.

"Tell that to Tim. All he knew was that her spine was messed up and she'd be facing surgeries almost the minute she was born…tons of surgeries and therapy and no guarantee that she'd be able to walk without crutches or a chair or anything."

"So I didn't tell you," he continued. "You and Tim had bigger things to worry about than my marital issues."

Jason pulled the truck up into the driveway of Buddy's house, putting it into park and turned his head, looking back down at her. "Besides…we all kind of lost our way…I didn't know if you even wanted to hear it, especially with everything else in your life."

That's what broke her heart. They really had lost track of each other, which…it was completely common. It was just…the three of them had something different. They always had. Two best friends and the love of their lives. We could be some sappy love story, she thought, closing her eyes again.

She closed her eyes, her head hitting back against the headrest, whispering. "Jason, do you still love Erin?"

Jason paused. "Why?"

"Because," she sighed. She opened her eyes, shrugging slightly, whispering. "Because you love her, you should just do what she wants. You do work a lot and…and you don't need to do that anymore. You don't need prove to anyone you are not some kid in a wheelchair with a broken spine."

Jason leaned his head against hers, their foreheads touching lightly. She reached to cup his face in her hand, whispering again. "You worked so hard to get them back. You uprooted your whole life and…and you don't need to prove to yourself anymore, Erin loved you in that chair, Jason. She only ever knew the…the you that you are now."

Not like me, she thought, cocking her head a little. "So you don't need to keep proving yourself."

"And what part of what you just said to me," Jason breathed. He smiled a little, his nose brushing hers. "What part of what you just said to me doesn't apply to you and Tim?"

She quirked her lip. "It doesn't Jason. You and Erin loved each other, you may not be able to give her more children but if she truly loves you, she'll deal with that, because you guys do have a beautiful son. You work to prove to yourself, but you don't need to do that anymore."

"And again," he said. "What part of what you said doesn't apply to you?"

I don't know, she thought, closing her eyes. She pulled away from him, glancing back at her father's house. "That's not important now."

He rolled his eyes, not convinced. Instead of saying anything, he leaned over for her hand, patting it. "You get inside. I'll be in shortly."

"Alright." She turned her head a little, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips.

I don't know why, was the first thought in her head, and the second was, oh no, what the hell are you doing?! She broke the kiss off a moment later, staring at Jason's wide-eyed look. She smiled slightly and then started to laugh. "Why…oh my God…I don't know…I don't know why I did that!"

"It's okay," he laughed, reaching over and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, holding her to him tightly. "But man we really have no chemistry."

"We did ten years ago," she laughed. He was right though. Maybe she wanted to see if there was still anything there. Definitely not. She closed her eyes, sighing. "I'm so confused right now Jason."

"Most normal people would be."

Yeah, but I wouldn't say I'm entirely normal, she thought with a shrug.

Lyla slipped out of his arms and climbed out of the truck, going up into the house and waiting for him to join her. She left him downstairs, going up and into the bathroom, where she stood in the shower, letting the hot water pour over her, washing away everything.

When she got out, what felt like an hour later, she hugged a towel around her, looking at her reflection in the steamy mirror. It was someone different, she thought, cocking her head, reaching to twirl a wet rope of dark hair around her finger.

Tim may not have cheated on her, but he was hiding something from her.

And she was sick of this dance they were doing.

Absolutely sick of it.

For six weeks they had just been standing in the same place. Not really speaking, barely looking at each other…shuttling their daughter back and forth, which was probably the absolute worst thing for her, when her entire life needed to be a routine.

Things had to change.

Jason's appearance was a big change. This entire weekend of memories…something needed to happen.

She was going to make it happen.

A therapist at Vanderbilt had told her that occasionally she needed to pull a fire alarm so to speak. Her way of coping with things was to essentially cope and deal with them until she snapped and did something insane, to hide from herself the real reason why she was upset or to actually face her feelings. That's why you cheated on your boyfriend with his best friend, the therapist told her. Or why you joined a megachurch rather than face your actual issues with your family.

The fire alarm was going off in her head.

She cocked her head, her mirror image doing the same. Her fingers tightened around the rope of hair.

Tim had to see that she wasn't going to take it anymore.

The fire alarm was at her fingertips. Hovering over the handle…

She opened up the drawer beneath the sink, removing a pair of scissors, her fingers closing around them tightly, drawing them up to her shoulders.

A smile pulled on her lips as the blades closed around that rope of hair in her fingers.

The fire alarm began to screech.


	10. Halftime

**A/N:** Wow! Thank you for the kind reviews. They mean a lot, thank you :) Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 10: Halftime**

"Noah I promise I'll be home on Tuesday, okay?" Jason leaned the phone against his shoulder and cheek, wheeling away from the fridge, a bottle of water on his knees. He lifted it to the counter, setting it there for Lyla when she got out of the shower. She'd been in there forever.

Noah didn't seem convinced. "I just want to go to the movie, all my friends have seen it and Mom says it's too violent."

"It is not too violent, I'll talk to her. I promise we can see it on Tuesday."

"Hmm…okay." Noah paused. "When can I go back to Texas?"

"How about Christmas? We'll come visit your grandparents."

"Okay." Noah waited a second again, giggling. "I gotta' go, my friends are here."

"Alright Noah. I'll see you next week. Love you buddy." Jason waited, but Noah didn't reply. He wasn't doing that so much anymore, especially when his friends were around. Damn, that kid was getting big, he thought, saying goodbye and then disconnecting the phone, dropping it to his knees.

The phone went off again, only this time it wasn't his son, but work. He frowned, answering it. "Yeah?"

"Jason, it's Zack. Do you have a moment to go over the new Williams contract? He's telling Miami he's fine with the $500,000 increase in salary, but I'm thinking we can get him more, what do you say?"

I think that Corinna Williams will come find me and kill me if I try to get her son even more money than he's okay with, Jason thought, clearing his throat. "Um, well, actually…"

"You will be back in the office Monday, correct?"

He closed his eyes. Listen to Lyla, he thought. He drew up his spine, literally as well as figuratively and replied to his boss. "No. I won't. I have to take my son to the doctor and I'm taking Tuesday off too."

Zack, one of the junior partners, cleared his throat, rather obviously. "Jason this is unlike you."

"Yeah, well…I'm thinking about something other than someone else's contracts and life." He looked down at his knees, his voice quiet. "I will see you on Wednesday of next week. The Williams contract can wait, I'm seeing him here later today."

"Off company time? You know our rules Jason."

"He's one of my oldest friends. Screw the rules." He hung up, his eyes wide and breathing deep. Wow. Hell, he might not even have a job next week.

It felt kind of good.

Just him and Noah all day Tuesday and…and hopefully Erin would talk to him that evening.

He lifted his eyes, smiling as Lyla entered. "Hey Lyla." He frowned, whipping his head around. "Oh my God!"

Lyla smiled, opening up the bottle of water. "Hi Jason."

"What did you do to your hair!?"

"I'll have someone else get my car," she said, ignoring his question and reaching for the house phone, holding it up. "Gotta' go call the hospital and have them reschedule my patients that I had this evening for next week. Thanks for the ride. I'll see you later." She disappeared back up the stairs, away from him.

What in the world is in the water in Dillon, Jason wondered, shaking his head and his eyes closing. He sighed, calling up the stairs. "I'll just…see you tonight?"

"Maybe!"

Okay, he thought, shaking his head and wheeling himself out the door and towards his truck.

Something told him this wasn't going to work out very well.

A few hours later, at the start of the game, Jason wheeled himself into the bleachers, choosing the first row, on the side of the stadium which was right behind the bench, giving him a good vantage of Billy and the team, who were doing some sort of weird rally or war cry. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but the other team, Arnett Mead, was looking at them like they'd gone batshit insane.

"It's a thing," Eric said beside him, chuckling a little. "It works, apparently." He cleared his throat. "So where is Tim?"

"I don't know."

He also hadn't seen Lyla, but he wasn't sure what she was doing. He'd waited until she left to get her car, picked up by her brother. Her eyes were more than a little on the crazy side, last he saw. Who knew what she had up her sleeve, but he hoped Tim was prepared for bodily injury, because he was sure that was probably going to be a given.

Or, knowing Lyla's track record, he should prepare to find his truck completely smashed.

"Hey Jason, son, you want to take this for me?"

Jason looked up, smiling at Rue, who was on Buddy's hip. "Hey Rue! You want to see me?"

Rue reached for him, sitting on his knees, which felt like a steady pressure. A bonus from the stem cell surgeries. She looked down at the small pink wheelchair Buddy had set beside his and then back to his chair. "This?" she asked, pointing to the wheel and then looking back at hers.

Smart girl, he thought, nodding. "Yes, I have one too."

Rue looked beyond him at Coach and Tami, who had just taken a seat beside him. "T!" she called, reaching her arms forward.

"Come here precious," Tami cooed, pulling Rue into her lap. "Did you say hello to Uncle Eric?"

Jason turned his head, letting Tami and Coach keep Rue entertained. He looked up when a shadow crossed over him, Tyra standing beside him. "Hello," he greeted her, unsure what to say.

Tyra sighed, whispering. "Jason, I…, um…can you come with me?"

He glanced at Coach. "Can you watch Rue? I have no idea where Buddy just went, but all her stuff is here."

"Yeah, we have her, no problem," Eric said, smiling quickly. He frowned again. "Where are Tim and Lyla?"

Tyra answered, before he had a chance to say he wasn't sure, "I don't know where Lyla is, but Tim is around, he might be with Buddy." She walked down the couple of steps while Jason wheeled himself around to the grass, pushing himself after her, towards the corner of the field, usually where Buddy stood during games.

He looked up at her, waiting for…for whatever she planned to tell him. Tyra scratched at her head, clearing her throat. "I cannot tell you this, because it would be betraying Tim's confidence, but…if you came to the conclusion on your own, that would be fine."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jason do you know what my profession is?"

Jason shrugged. Last he heard, Tyra was working in California, on some city council or something. He knew she'd moved to Austin about six months ago to work at the statehouse, but he wasn't sure doing what.

The former vixen, now looking a little like a cheerleader with her hair pulled in a ponytail and wearing a hooded sweatshirt with a pair of comfortable jeans and tennis shoes, rather than a form-fitting outfit like she had most of the time in high school, shook her head a little, the ponytail swaying. She smiled slightly, her arms crossing over her chest. "Jason, I got my degree in clinical psychology and finished my Master's last year in behavioral psychology. I'm a licensed counselor for the state of Texas child and protective services and I'm working on my Ph.D."

Counselor.

It took one little look from Tyra before he was smiling slightly. Timmy, you idiot, that's what this is all about? "You're Tim's counselor?"

"I cannot legally and ethically treat family members…not officially," Tyra whispered, lifting an eyebrow. "And I cannot confirm or deny whether someone, family or not, is in treatment. What I can say is that on occasion I see Tim and I talk to Tim, but it isn't because we're having an affair." She took a step back, shrugging and smiling again. "Someone needed to know Jason, what you do with that information is up to you, but someone needed to know who…who can help them more than me."

He watched Tyra jog back to the stands, walking up to sit with Matt, Julie, Mindy, a girl didn't know but he thought her name was Becky, and a bunch of Tim's nephews. His gaze fell from them to Coach and Tami, who were holding Rue, who was clapping and cheering, having fun.

That little girl didn't know what was happening, but she was happy, and that's what mattered. It was like Noah. He had no idea what it meant that daddy was in a wheelchair and couldn't get on the floor and play with him like all his other friends could do with their dads.

He didn't think anything of it because he was growing up with it as a normal part of his life. Rue was the same. It didn't mean anything to her right now that she had to sit in a wheelchair and wear braces on her legs and go through therapy and to the doctor all the time, because that was her life.

She was just a happy kid.

Her parents loved her, he thought. They loved her more than anything in the world. It was the same for Noah. He was eight and he didn't really seem…he was affected, but not in the way that Erin and himself thought when they broke the news to him about the divorce. They loved him and he knew it.

Come on guys, he thought, glancing around, wondering where the hell Tim and Lyla both were. He looked up again, seeing Tim walking towards him. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded.

"I had to get something for Rue, we done this stupid thing yet?"

"Halftime."

"Halftime? I thought we had to do the ceremony before the game."

"No, it's at halftime. What were you getting for Rue?"

Tim smiled, removing something from under his arm and letting it fall out. "Pretty sweet, huh?"

Jason just shook his head at the '33' Panther jersey. "I'd have thought you had 50 of those for her by now."

"No, this is different." He turned it around so that Jason could see the back. He grinned. "She'll like it one day, she can grow into it."

Jason chuckled. In block letters over the numbers was her name. "Cute."

"I was going to put Wheels, but Buddy thought that was insensitive, so I figured it really was, if Buddy Garrity thought something wasn't politically correct."

Yeah, that was bad, although maybe Buddy was growing up.

Jason clicked his tongue, wheeling with Tim back to the bleachers. "So…have you talked to Lyla? She seemed upset at the pep rally, when I saw her leaving." He wasn't sure if he wanted to let Tim know about the kiss or picking Lyla up on the side of the road. Lyla should hopefully tell him first.

Tim shook his head, not saying anything and smiling wide at Rue, showing her the jersey and slipping it on over her head. He pulled her into his lap, hugging and kissing her, telling her what a pretty little girl she was and the best daughter he ever had.

"Only one," she giggled; it was obviously a shtick between them.

Where was Lyla, Jason wondered again, sitting beside Tim and Rue, looking out at the game. He pushed it out of his mind, focusing on the game, which by halftime, the Panthers were up by two touchdowns.

Now we have this thing, he thought, wheeling himself back out onto the field. There was a ton of noise and then a very loud laugh. "Oh, wondered when he'd show up," he said, grinning wide as one of his biggest clients came onto the field, the entire stadium, even the Arnett Mead fans standing and cheering. All the high school-age kids about fainted as Smash came out onto the field, headed straight for Coach Taylor, giving him a big bear-hug in front of everyone.

"The Smash is here baby!" he yelled, his arms out to the side, covered in bling, wearing his own jersey, which was practically bedazzled in diamonds around the numbers and Miami dolphin mascot.

He held his hand out, shaking Smash's hand when he came over. "Best agent ever, baby," Smash said, straightening up. "What! Riggs! You're dating them younger and younger!"

"Nice to see you too Smash," Tim said with a grin, holding Rue a little tighter on his hip as she clutched his shirt. "This is my kid, this is Rue. Say hi to Smash, huh Rue?"

The three-year old buried her face into his shoulder again, but she was smiling this time as Smash teased her, calling her 'baby', until finally she turned her head quickly. "Not a baby!" she yelled, giggled and shoving her fingers into her mouth. "My name is Rue!"

Jason wondered how much other people on the team knew of Tim's…situation. When Smash's eyes fell to the braces on Rue's legs, he saw the flicker of surprise, replaced quickly with a narrow-eyed curiosity. It went to full-on acceptance without question when Buddy came over with the small pink wheelchair, Tim setting Rue into it.

There was a long bar that came up from one of the handles, so an adult could push it, Tim's hand wrapping around it as Rue looked up, settling in her chair. She reached up, touching the diamond dolphin pendant falling from Smash's neck, along with ropes of other diamonds.

"You want this little Riggins? Here you go." Smash took off the pendant, draping it over her neck. "All yours Baby Rig."

"Give it back," Tim said, his voice quiet. "That's not yours Rue."

"It's a gift, you get to keep it," Smash said, glaring up at Tim. He straightened up, muttering to him. "Where's…" He shrugged. "Her mom?"

Tim didn't answer, his grip a little tighter on Rue's wheelchair.

Jason could have wondered that very question. He listened as Buddy spoke about the 2006 team, about what they endured on the first game of the season, feeling the entire stadium's eyes bore into him. He smiled and lifted his hand to wave as they introduced him first.

They worked their way down the line, the entire stadium cheering for each one. Jason smiled when Tim and Matt both got cheers that were almost as loud as when Smash was called out, but not quite. He was a Super Bowl winning running back; even though Tim was Dillon's most notorious resident and Matt was…well he was Matt Saracen. No one could hate him.

Smash hadn't let go of whomever "Baby Rig's" mother was, but he finally stopped when Tyra left the stands, walking out with Julie and little Henry. "Ah…got back with the tall drink of water known as Tyra, good for you Riggins."

"Not quite," Tim mumbled, stiffening a little behind him.

Jason wondered what that was about, until he saw the reason why.

Lyla had just walked in.

Although it wasn't Lyla. It was a woman standing at the top of the bleachers, her hair jagged and chopped, her face sharp and eyebrow arched, and her lips a blood-red, wearing a black dress that fluttered about her in the light nighttime breeze, wearing cowboy boots. There was something very dark and…chaotic about this Lyla. She looked like if…

"Whoa," Smash drawled. He glanced at Tim, his eyes wide. "Uh…guess you guys…" Jason made a slashing notion to his neck. Smash frowned a little, shrugging, obviously not getting that he had to shut up. "I'm just saying, damn Timmy Riggs! You got the hot good girl and somehow made her the hot bad girl! Congrats man!"

Tim just shook his head, still staring up at the woman in the bleachers.

Jason grinned. Good for you Lyla.

"What happened to her?" Matt mumbled.

What had happened was that Lyla's evil twin had come to town.


	11. We're Just Bent, Not Broken

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews; regarding the Tim/Tyra angle, there's more explanation with it throughout the next three chapters. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 11: We're Just Bent, Not Broken**

What in the hell was Lyla doing?

The woman had lost her mind.

Tim saw her standing at the top of the bleachers, what little was left of her hair blowing around her face like a hurricane. What was that about!? Where did her hair go!? It was fine when he chopped his off because he was a guy, but her? He liked her long hair!

And that dress…he'd never seen it before. It was a black strapless dress, with leather and lace and sheer panels on the sides, the skirt basically just rags of sheer-like material floating around her. It was not appropriate for a football game. Then she had on her damn cowboy boots that drove him crazy. Her hands were on her hips, staring down, straight at him.

Was she having a nervous breakdown? He knew that would happen eventually.

First she threw the ring at him, wouldn't listen to him explain…which he really didn't do, now that he thought about it, and now here she was, after ignoring his calls all day, leaving him with Rue, and she was standing there watching him.

Coach Taylor finished the speech thing he had to give, finally dismissing the State winning 2006 team back to the bleachers and their families. He pushed Rue's wheelchair back to the bleachers, leaning down and giving her a hug and kiss. She yawned; it was getting to her bedtime. "Grandpa is going to take you home," he said, getting up to his feet. "I love you."

He left her with Coach Taylor and Jason, walking over to Buddy. "Can you take Rue back home?" he asked, gesturing back to the stands. "I have to go do something."

"Uh…yeah…" Buddy trailed off, his brows furrowing. "What is wrong with Lyla…what happened to her hair!?"

"Thanks Buddy," he said, patting his father-in-law's shoulder.

"I'm blaming you for this Tim Riggins," Buddy said.

He had no doubt Buddy would find a way to blame everything on him. He ignored Tyra's look from the bleachers, as well as the knowing one from Jason, leaving the stadium and following after Lyla, who looked like she was bringing the damn impending thunderstorm with her.

He could hear it rumbling in the distance and the wind began to pick up, drawing dust and dirt up in little funnel clouds. Lyla got into her car, driving away. He waited until he saw her stop at the exit of the parking lot, waiting for him.

What are you up to, he thought, getting in his truck and following her. He narrowed his eyes, drops of rain beginning to hit every few seconds. He didn't know what had gotten into her, but…this wasn't the first time she'd gone a bit crazy, she just tended to do one thing that was out of the normal and then go back to being Lyla for awhile until she snapped again.

That one crazy thing.

Like panicking at the idea of graduating school and showing up on his doorstep. They'd gone to dinner, to celebrate, and that was it. He dropped her off at Buddy's house, kissed her cheek, and then went home. He'd changed out of the nice shirt and jeans he'd worn into a t-shirt and shorts, intent on spending his evening watching anything on TV and having a beer.

And not thinking of her as anything other than a friend again.

He followed the sight of her taillights in the darkness, allowing himself to relive that moment, almost four years ago.

* * *

_What the hell was that sound? Sounded like someone knocking on the door. He really didn't want to deal with anyone, but he set his beer down on the table beside his chair anyway, getting to his feet. He trudged out of the living room and down the hall, pausing. He felt his heart begin to thud and his palms sweat. That wasn't what he did. _

_He was pretty sure he knew who was on the other side._

_And he really wasn't sure if he should open it._

_Or if he even wanted to open it._

_He did._

_With a deep breath caught in his throat, he turned the doorknob, slowly bringing it back towards him, leaning against it with one arm over his head, the other on his hip. "Hey," he whispered. _

_She hadn't changed out of the fancy halter-top and black pants she'd been wearing at dinner, her hair pulled back from her face in a braided twist. The lip-gloss from earlier was worn away, her lower lip tugged beneath her teeth in that adorable way he loved. Her eyes darted around and finally settled on his, looking up through her eyelashes. _

_"Hey," she whispered, her voice husky. She lifted an eyebrow. "You said you'd give me a tour. You didn't do that yesterday."_

_Because yesterday when she'd stopped by, it had been to ask him to dinner tonight. To catch up for old times. Get beyond this weird awkwardness they were involved in. He wasn't sure if they were friends or…or what, just that there was tension. There was still tension, when if they were just friends or if they were over each other…he suspected it wouldn't be there._

_"You didn't stick around."_

_"I didn't want to do this."_

_"Do what?"_

_"This," she breathed. She took a step into the house, beyond the threshold, reaching her hand up to his neck. They bent their heads together, breathing shallow. He could almost hear her heart racing. "I thought I was over you…I hate that I was over you and now…"_

_She lifted her eyes, those molten chocolate dark eyes. "Do you think about me?"_

_"No."_

_"Liar."_

_"If you want to believe that." He hadn't thought about her in a long time. He was always gone when she came to town and when he was in town, she was never around. They'd avoided each other for the better part of four years. One in which he had no choice but to avoid her. _

_What about Tyra, he thought briefly, when she took another step towards him, her hips lightly bumping into his. "I haven't thought about you in four years," she whispered, almost accusing him, her voice hard. "And I'm in town for…two days and I can't stay away. Why is that Tim?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"I was fine," she bit out, her arms crossing over her chest, still close to him, her face lifting back to his, whispering. "I was fine without you. Better than ever. I don't love you anymore."_

_"Well neither do I." That was the truth, oddly enough. He didn't…didn't feel like he was still in love with her. Cared for her, sure, but love? A lot had changed since then. _

_"I'm back for a day and…I can't seem to get you out of my head."_

_"Well I don't know what to tell you Lyla, you wanted to leave, so you left."_

_"I don't know why I'm here."_

_I do, he thought, his arm going around her, holding for a second, her hips lightly bumping into his. He felt her arm go around his waist, holding, her hand spreading in the small of his back. _

_She looked up at him, waiting. "Just do it," she whispered, smiling slightly. "You know you want to."_

_"No I don't."_

_"Well I do."_

_He waited a second, seeing the sudden creep of doubt on her face. He smiled, before grabbing her face with his free hand, and dragging her towards him in a blinding, white-hot kiss. It was like fireworks exploding around them, her feet lifting from her high heels, wrapping her legs around his waist, as he stumbled backwards, slamming the front door shut. _

_They twisted and fell against the staircase, her fingers tearing at his hair and back, fighting to pull his t-shirt off. With one tug on her shirt, it fell to the floor, and they made their way upstairs, not saying a word, consumed in a cloud of emotion and passion, almost punishing each other for the time they were apart._

_She leaned over him, her hair falling out of its twist, her cheeks flushed. "I'm not coming back after this," she whispered, kissing him again, her fingers fumbling between them. "I mean it Tim, I am not coming back to Dillon, this is the last time."_

_He flipped her onto her back, his nose brushing over hers, breaking the kiss. "You said that last time."_

_ "It's just this once Tim. That's all this is. One night." She took a deep breath. "Because I'm not coming back after I leave. I promise that. We need this out of our system, okay?"_

_"Fine by me," he whispered, not even realizing what that meant. Not that he cared. This was more for her than for him anyway. He wasn't the one going to her house for it. _

_You're not going to come back after this. _

_And I'm not going to ask you to stay this time either._

* * *

They chanced it, that one night, and that one time. Apparently there was always that little tiny three percent chance of anything failing. The one time it didn't work, it had to be that time, and three months later, she was on his doorstep again, asking if he had time to talk. She had something very important to tell him. He'd stepped aside, telling her just for a few minutes.

He didn't want to risk anything happening again.

And so she told him. So she left. He stewed for a few days, until she returned for the weekend. He proposed. Tyra showed up about a day after that, and he ended things for good with her. Now here he was.

Tim pulled the truck into the drive of the house, following her up to it. He waited in the front seat for a moment, the storm rolling in; the trees cracked loudly as the wind blew through them, whistling as it passed through the eaves of the house.

Ominous, he thought, waiting for the right moment.

Lyla got out of her car at the same time he did, the two of them walking straight into the house. He held the door open for her, waiting for her to step inside before he slammed it, the window pane in the center cracking loudly as it slammed shut with help from the force of the wind.

He turned, just as she threw herself at him.

At first he thought she was going to hit him, but she was grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, hard and punishing. He yanked at her dress, finding the zipper in the back and tearing it with one tug, leaving her in cowboy boots and not much else. She pulled away, her eyes wide, stunned.

"Why," she whispered, kissing him again, her eyes open on his. "Why can't you just explain to me?"

I have no idea, he thought, shaking his head slightly. He whispered. "Why can't you just ask?"

She had no answer either, choosing instead to kiss him again. This was too easy, he thought. Her fingernails dug into the back of his neck, scratching as she used one hand to whip open the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders.

She turned away from him once they reached the room, leaning back on the bed, lifting her foot up for him to pull off her cowboy boots. He held her ankles, studying her for a moment, glaring up at him. "You said you were done with me. You were sick of the dance, you said."

"I am done with you."

"Then what the hell do you call this? And what the hell did you do to your hair? You going insane again? This going to end up with you taking a golf club to my back bumper like last year?"

"Yes, that's me, Lyla Garrity, the girl who occasionally goes batshit insane."

There was always a reason. She wanted to talk? Fine. They could talk. "Why are you doing this now?" Jesus, he couldn't believe he just asked that question; it was painfully obvious. The snort she let out showed she agreed.

Her eyes narrowed. "Just to show you that maybe I can still do something crazy."

"Throwing your wedding ring at me was pretty crazy."

"I told you if you ever cheated on me you'd regret it."

"The fact that you think I cheated on you just goes to show maybe we really don't know each other, Lyla Garrity," he said, pinning her arms above her head and lowering himself over her. Her toes dragged along his calf, her smile almost purring. He bit at her bottom lip, grinning. "This…are you just trying to prove another point? You still got what it takes or something?"

"Maybe."

He brushed his nose over hers, kissing lightly. The storm outside battered the house, rain pelting the windows like bullets. "Why did you marry me?"

"I was pregnant."

"Wrong answer," he growled, repeating the question. "Why did you marry me?"

She blinked a few times, her eyes shining with tears. She retorted, angry. "Why did you marry me?"

"That's not an answer, that's a question. Answer my question Garrity."

"Answer your question? Tim you're the one who has explaining to do. I shouldn't even be here, I gave you more than enough chances."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah," he whispered, smiling. "That's true."

She drew back, semi-surprised he agreed with her. Ha, ha, he thought with a grin. I just threw you off your game. She was expecting him to protest. He brushed his lips over hers. "You've given me more than enough chances, so let's make this time matter, Garrity. One more time now, why did you marry me?"

"Why are you going to see Tyra on the weekends?" she asked, rather than answering, her fingers clenching his above her head. They tangled into her hair, pooled out beneath her on the white pillow case, like a spilled pot of ink. Tears shined brighter. "I deserve an answer, after all this time, I deserve an answer. I need an answer. You're not cheating on me, but…you're doing something behind my back and I don't deserve that Tim. Not after everything we have been through." She hiccupped. "Not after all the work we have put into this thing between us."

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, his forehead falling against hers. "I'm seeing her for…therapy. If you could call it that."

There. He told her. All better. Right?

She didn't move beneath him. Hardly even breathed. Her eyes lifted back to his. "Therapy?"

"Yes. I'm seeing her for therapy." He swallowed the lump in his throat, lowering his body over hers, his weight shifting comfortably and her leg going around his waist. Their arms were still raised above their heads.

It felt good to say that. He didn't realize how much. He closed his eyes when she spoke, whispering in his ear. "Why did you just tell me that? Were you ashamed Tim? It's nothing…nothing to be ashamed about."

I didn't know how you would react, he thought, closing his eyes tighter. "It's Tyra and I know…know how you feel about her."

"If she's helping you…Tim that's not what this is about."

He opened his eyes. "I wasn't with Tyra when we slept together, Lyla, but…I still know how you feel about her. You thought you were…the other woman. You weren't. Neither was Tyra. I just…it was stupid, okay? I made a bad judgment."

Lyla cocked her head, her lower lip swollen and her cheek and neck flushed red from beard burn. Her voice cracked when she spoke again. "Why did you ask me to marry you?" she repeated. She swallowed, her throat bobbing a little. "I put up with a lot from you Tim. Give me an answer or I will leave."

Very carefully he rolled off of her onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, knowing she was watching him from the side. He closed his eyes, sighing. "Because I was in love with you." Because you were pregnant is not the answer. Not the whole answer.

He laughed a little. It hurt his heart to laugh. "Because I was in love with you and because it gave me a reason to propose to you…an easy way out with Tyra, I guess. Because I loved you, that's…that's the reason." He turned his head a little, whispering. "I just didn't know it then."

At his side, Lyla rolled into him, propping her head on her hand, looking down. He watched her finger drag from his forehead to his nose and over his lips, settling on his chest. She spread her hand over his heart. The warmth from her palm spread through his skin like wildfire, settling in his toes.

She smiled slowly. "I was in love with you Tim. I didn't want to be. I guess…" She turned her head back up to the ceiling, whispering. "I guess I fell back in love with you and when…when I still loved you during those…those nights with Rue crying or sick in the hospital or…or when you'd get drunk and I'd help you up the stairs…I began to resent you for it."

And in a way, he resented her for it too. "You were also pregnant when you didn't want to be, and it was by me…the guy who only wanted you." He glanced sideways, whispering. "That was the best and worst thing you ever did was leave me and me letting you leave."

She frowned. "How do you mean?"

He smiled. "I went to jail, Garrity. I had nothing, but…I had this land. I did something good for Billy and it…killed me." He glanced sideways again, still smiling. He whispered. "And when I got out things were different. I just…saw things for what they were, you know? More serious, I guess."

"Yeah," she whispered. She closed her eyes, her hand returning to his heart. They never talked much about his time in jail. After they got married, he'd told her, the first night he had a nightmare with her in bed. He woke up yelling and found that it was her voice that calmed him more than anything.

This could seriously backfire, what he was about to do, but hell, what did they have to lose at this point? He cleared his throat and asked. "What do you want?"

Lyla turned her head, looking down at him. She glanced away for a moment, a smile tugging on her lips. "Lots of things."

He shook his head on the pillow. They couldn't have lots of things. There was one thing he was thinking of in his mind. It wasn't an ultimatum, but…it would put things on the right path…if it matched his. He closed his eyes briefly and then asked again. "What else do you want?"

See Garrity, it's not so easy to answer, he thought, seeing it cross her face. She lowered her head down to the pillow, against his, and their fingers folding together between them. She sighed. "I want my family back. I want you and I want Rue and I want our family back. I want the good times back." She frowned, tears trickling from her cheeks to the pillow beneath her face. "I don't hate you, I really don't. I never did. This thing happened to us and…and without it I don't think we'd have been together again and…I am so sorry for what I said…"

What you said months before you left, he thought, his eyes closing, remembering that fight. Before he started seeing Tyra again. "I don't regret ever coming back here, like I said, I'm sorry," she whispered

She sighed, whispering. "I just want the good times back, Tim. This thing between us…it's something…something that I want to fight for." She breathed slowly. "We can learn to love again, right?"

He nodded slowly, smiling against her lips, their eyes meeting. "I really want to."

She sighed in relief, her eyes closing, tears trickling out of the corners to his chest. "That's what I want too. I think it's enough. I just…didn't know if you thought that too. If our love was enough to get through this…because it wasn't in the past."

"We were teenagers. It wasn't ever going to be enough when we were teenagers."

"And now…" she trailed off, lifting her face up to his, shrugging. "Tim we've been through too much because of…of one little thing and now…our daughter…everything else. It has to be enough because if it isn't…we need to end. We can't keep being miserable. We have to end for good, if it really isn't enough to get through this."

I don't want that, he thought, his fingers brushing over her arm. He closed his eyes, sighing. "It's enough Garrity. For me. Question is…is what we have between us…taking Rue out of the equation and my…therapy and all that, is what we have left…is that enough for you?"

You really don't have to give me the time of day, he thought, watching her thoughts cross her face. "And I promise I'll…tell you everything," he whispered. He felt his voice start to ramble, when she didn't answer him just yet. Please answer, he begged silently. "I'll work on things, Garrity, I promise, but you have to promise me that you can't just ignore me too and you have to realize that I'm never going to be this guy who has a million employees or gets a degree or…"

"Tim."

He froze, her voice soft. He glanced down, sitting back against the headboard. "Yeah?"

She looked up, her smile soft and her eyes shining. Her hand went to his, squeezing lightly. She cleared her throat. "Tim, what we have between us? It's…it's worth it okay? Fighting? I want to fight for it."

"Really?" he mouthed, trying hard not to just burst into a giant smile.

She nodded, glancing away, whispering again. "Yeah."

He smiled, leaning down and kissing her again, settling beside her, their arms around each other, just looking at each other. He kissed her again. "Thanks for coming back."

She shrugged. "Tim…I'm not back yet."

And he was going to work on that.


	12. Breather

**A/N**: Thank you so much for the reviews! I had to cut this chapter in half; it got way too long. This is more filler before the next chapter. Enjoy, thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 12: Breather**

I can't breathe, Lyla thought, eyes closed and feeling like there was a weight on her chest. She swallowed a few times, her throat very dry. Must have fallen asleep on my back. She licked her lips, eyes fluttering open. They felt like sandpaper. Her fingers reached to wipe at them, her head pounding.

She lifted her head a little, taking in the familiar room. My room, she thought, looking at the painting across the room that Matt made for her of the land outside. There was the pretty ruffled ottoman she got to sit in front of her makeup vanity, which she found at an antique store in Austin.

And there were clothes all over the floor, boots scattered here and there…my room.

What am I doing in my room?

Last night. Tim.

Lyla's evil twin.

"Oh God," she mumbled, pushing her hand over her forehead. It felt like coming out of a hangover. She closed her eyes tighter, her voice a tad clearer. "Oh my God." How embarrassing! Storming into the football game, putting on a dress she bought on a whim a year or so ago and hadn't worn because they'd been no occasion for, and her…her hair!

What in the world had she done?

She glanced down at why her chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it; Tim was stretched across her, holding her like a rag doll, his head on her shoulder. He tugged her against him a little tighter when she tried to slip out from under him.

The denim from his jeans scratched at her bare thighs, forcing her to stop her movements. They didn't do anything last night, but for some reason she was as sore and spent as if they had. It was emotionally draining, talking about your feelings.

For the life of her, she hoped they were in an okay place. It would still take some time. They had other things to discuss. Rue, for one, was going to be an entire week of conversation. Maybe they should go to counseling…

Hell, maybe Tyra should counsel them, she mused, glancing down at his face. Her finger pushed a lock of hair from his eye, where it curled over his ear. She remembered when he cut it. Just one of those things he did for Rue. She had to have her head shaved for a shunt replacement, and was upset. So he came into the hospital with a buzzed haircut, which made her feel like the happiest little girl in the world.

We had good times, she thought. We had some great times, she thought, remembering their first- and only- vacation.

* * *

_"It's cold!"_

_"It is cold, isn't it?" she laughed, standing aside in the dry sand, while Tim stood in the surf, lowering Rue down, her hands in his, arms stretched upwards. She was holding Rue's little sandals, as well as hers and Tim's flip-flops, biting her lower lip nervously as Tim lifted her back up again._

_Rue shrieked, a particularly forceful wave slapping at her feet, splashing up the knees of her little capri pants. She giggled uncontrollably, her head lolling on her shoulders. "It's cold!" she repeated._

_She grinned, Tim leaning over Rue, keeping his arm around her waist as she leaned back against him, still unable to support her own weight on her legs. He leaned down into the water, removing a small shell, handing it to her. _

_California, she thought, turning her head and waving at her mother, who was standing up by the walkway towards the parking lot, waving at them. She dropped their shoes, walking over to join Tim and Rue, her hand going to Tim's shoulder. "You want to get the camera? Take a picture of her."_

_"Your mom is taking enough pictures," he teased, waving at her mother, who instantly frowned, refusing to wave back. "She hates me."_

_"Gramma don't hate you," Rue said. _

_"Thank you Rue. I knew there was a reason I loved you."_

_"I love you Daddy."_

_"And thank you," he said, kissing her lightly. He smiled when she pushed at his face, laughing as he rubbed his cheek against hers. "Scratchy, huh?"_

_"No scratchy! Tickles!"_

_She laughed, her arm around Rue. "Daddy's growing a beard. I have no idea why, he'll look like a caveman."_

_"You like it, admit it Garrity," he said. He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at Rue, who covered her face with her hands, laughing again. "Should I do it?"_

_"Do what?" She barely had time to hug Rue against her before he lunged towards her. "Ah! Tim! Let go of me! No!" She shrieked as he blew raspberries on her neck, knocking her into the sand, the water washing up over her. It was freezing!_

_She pushed him off of her, laughing, soaking wet, while Rue sat in the sand, clapping her hands. It was good to see her happy. Acting like any other child. She ran her hand over Tim's cheek, kissing him lightly. "Thanks for that."_

_"Any time Garrity." He helped her up to her feet, walking over and picking up Rue. He held her on his hip, walking down the beach with her. "This place is nice, but it's no Texas."_

_"No, it's not," she whispered, her arm linking around his. His fingers folded in hers. She smiled up at him. It had been a long time since they'd been able to be like this. Coupley, she supposed. _

_My husband, she thought, narrowing her eyes up at him. "What?" he asked a second later. _

_"Nothing, I just like looking at you from time to time."_

_He kissed her quickly. "Nice vacation."_

_They needed to escape. She nodded. "My mom wanted to see Rue again…besides, we can take that required trip for every American family to Disneyland."_

_"Garrity you're going to have to drug me."_

_"Do it for your daughter," she drawled, looking up at Rue, who began to go on and on about how she wanted to see Cinderella. _

_He rolled his eyes. "Fine." _

_I think I might love you, she thought, rising on her toes again and sharing another kiss with him, her head lightly falling to his shoulder. She closed her eyes, sighing as they walked along the Pacific Ocean. _

_Thank Heaven for little miracles, she thought, opening an eye to look at Rue, who had her head on Tim's shoulder, looking out at the ocean. She reached her hand to tap at Rue's nose, her daughter giggling. _

_Without you, would I be here with him, she wondered, rolling her eyes upward to Tim. As hard as it was, she didn't believe so. As hard as this was, it was nice to know they…they could have a moment like this._

_"I love you," she whispered._

_He seemed a little surprised. It wasn't like they said something like that often. They almost never did. They never really had moments to warrant it. He smiled. "I love you too."_

_"Me too!" Rue exclaimed._

_"And of course you!" they both said, laughing as Rue giggled, positively thrilled they agreed with her. _

_That evening, sitting in the sand outside of her mother's beach-house, a fire in the pit in front of them, she glanced sideways to him, her arms draped over her knees, wearing one of his flannel shirts over her t-shirt. Her feet were buried in the sand, to ward off the chill coming from the ocean. _

_He nudged his shoulder against hers. She watched as he shredded the bark from a long stick embedded in the sand between his feet. "This is really nice," she whispered, her head against his shoulder._

_He rested his head against hers, still playing with the stick. "Ever think this could happen again, Garrity?"_

_No, she thought, her eyes fluttering shut. "Sometimes love can be enough," she whispered. _

_"For what?"_

_"To get through differences. Hard times. Sometimes it isn't."_

_"Think it is enough for us?" he asked, shoving the stick into the fire, turning to look down at her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He whispered against her lips. "Don't answer that."_

_Thank you, she thought, returning the kiss. She didn't know if she had an answer for it. Her arms went around his neck, as he settled her back in the sand. She broke away, her breathing heavy. This was getting too serious. "Race you," she breathed._

_"Race to what?"_

_She pushed at his shoulders and jumped to her feet, laughing and taking off for the ocean, shedding the flannel shirt and kicking off her flip-flops. She reached down and yanked off her t-shirt. "Come on Thirty-Three! You scared of the water?"_

_"Garrity that water is ice cold you're going to freeze your ass off!"_

_All she did was laugh, shucking her shorts and diving into the water, yelling at the stabbing ice cold hitting her skin. A moment later, he was in next to her, both of them bobbing up and down in the freezing water, their arms around each other, laughing. _

* * *

She remembered a few other times. It only got…got really bad this last year. When it felt like all their insecurities of their marriage and with themselves got the better of them. The stress hit harder, as Rue needed more equipment now that she was trying to walk and more therapy…he never complained with Rue. He just took his stress out by ignoring her and hiding things when they needed to be talking.

And she wasn't any better with that either.

"It wasn't all bad," she whispered, her hand stilling on his beard. She frowned. That had to go; everyone always knew when they did…something, just by looking at the beard burn on her neck.

She shifted a little again, but he just held tighter. "Tim," she breathed, her hand stilling on his head. She moved again. Her voice rose slightly. "Tim, I need to get back to Rue."

What time was it?

She lifted her wrist, glancing at her watch. Holy crap! It was almost noon! How the hell did they sleep so late!? Okay, that was it; she had to get back to Rue. This was far too long; there was no way her dad was going to know what to do for the entire day. "Tim, it's noon, get up."

"Hmm…" he mumbled, his cheek sliding down to her stomach. She rolled her eyes, pushing at his shoulder. He smiled, turning his face into her, kissing lightly over her stomach and up to her neck.

Please don't, she sighed, feeling him sliding over her. "No," she mumbled, her lips tingling a little in pain, swollen and bruised from the night before. Her hands slipped up to his face, holding him in place as he kissed her. "Tim," she said, finally breaking the kiss completely, her eyes fluttering open. "Tim, we have a daughter."

"I know," he replied, kissing her again. He pulled away, getting off the bed and reaching for his shirt, slipping it back on while she fumbled for something to wear, since her dress was in tatters at the base of the stairs.

Lucky for her, she left enough clothing behind to find a pair of jeans and some socks, reaching in for a button-down shirt, slipping it on while Tim shoved his feet into flip-flops. "We still aren't," she whispered, knowing that it needed to be said. She took a deep breath, reaching to touch his chest. She swallowed hard. "We still aren't back together, Tim. I mean…we still have to talk about some things. We just…needed this. A breaking point…I guess."

He nodded, leaning over to open the door. "I know."

"Okay. Like Rue and…and how much…" She didn't want to get into it now. Not after the night they'd had. Her eyes closed as he leaned over her again, his fingers sliding over the palm of her hand, something cool between them. When she opened her eyes, glancing down, she saw he'd given her the ring back.

The corner of her lip turned upward slightly. Thank you. I felt like I was missing something without this. She shoved it into the pocket of her jeans; it would go back to the necklace later.

Tim held open the door for her, letting her walk out first, going downstairs and into the kitchen, where she stopped in her tracks. He bumped into her from behind, his hands going to her shoulders to keep her from falling forward.

Jason sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee. "They're alive!" he greeted them, smiling happily. His eyes were positively twinkling. She wanted to slap his smile off for some reason.

She ignored him, turning to look up at Tim. "I'll see you tomorrow, um, I'll bring Rue by in the evening…"

"What about the banquet tonight?" Jason asked.

What about it, she thought, glancing between the both of them. "I'm not going to go," she said. She wanted to spend the day with Rue. There were also errands that had to be run. Things that needed to be done. She glanced at the scrap of her dress on the buffet table against one side of the kitchen. Her cheeks flushed a little pink, sweeping it up into her hand, knowing Jason was watching her with a smile.

She touched Tim's arm lightly. "I'll call you, okay? I'm not going to the banquet, Rue needs a night in and so do I."

"Okay," he whispered, glancing sideways. He nodded his head a little towards the front door, away from Jason, who was still smiling around his mug of coffee. They went to the door, pausing on the porch. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I had fun last night," he whispered, smiling a little.

She lifted an eyebrow, trying not to smile. "We didn't do anything last night. Not…not that."

"Maybe that's what made it fun."

You constantly surprise me, she thought, rising on her toes and kissing him lightly. Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt, letting go a second later as she fell back onto her heels. "I'll talk to you later…um, have fun today. I'll be at my dad's." She let go of him, returning to her car and giving him a small wave as she backed out of the drive.

The entire time back to her dad's house, she felt like singing, laughing a moment later, her head falling into her hand, slumping against the door. Oh my God, she thought, driving away from the house. Her house.

What even happened? It was…it was like six weeks just all sort of bubbled over in two damn days. More like six months, actually.

Jason.

That was the difference. Jason. Jason was here, everyone was here…nostalgia and memories and…and everything. The promise.

She smiled, driving silently, eventually ending up at her dad's. A few minutes later, she entered the house, seeing her father walking down the stairs with Rue. "Where were you all night?" Buddy asked, somewhat accusatorily.

"I…I was with Tim."

He froze, lowering Rue into her chair. After a second, he straightened up, letting Rue push herself over to her play area. "Oh?" he questioned, a smile twisting on his lips. "Really?"

Lyla rolled her eyes. "We talked, Daddy."

"Are you going to move back?"

I never thought I'd see the day when my father, Buddy Garrity, was pushing me, Lyla Garrity, to move in and make up with Tim Riggins. She shook her head, chuckling, walking by him to Rue's area. "I don't know Daddy, we still have to work on some things, but…"

Rue looked up, holding out one of her toys. "Where is Daddy?"

"Daddy is at the house, but I'm right here. What do you want to play?" Lyla asked, folding herself down onto the mat, reaching for one of Rue's developmental toys, a giant plastic teapot with various shapes you had to put into the holes on the side. "Let's play with this."

She helped Rue get out of the chair, holding her hands as Rue stood, walking carefully. Lyla wished Rue would give the crutches a shot. At least they weren't the damn chair. She sat down on the mat, Rue sitting against her, playing with the teapot toy.

"I love you Momma," Rue whispered.

Lyla closed her eyes, smoothing back Rue's dark hair from her forehead. "I love you too baby."

"I love Daddy."

I know, she thought, kissing Rue again, her eyes closing.

Mommy loves Daddy too.

She sighed, swaying with Rue. "Yeah. It's hard not to love him, huh?"

"Yes," Rue said, but had no idea what she was talking about. She chuckled, reaching for another toy, setting it in front of her daughter, content to just sit with her for right now.


	13. It's Never As Bad As It Seems

**A/N: **Thank you so much for the reviews! :) Enjoy; this was a very difficult chapter for me to write.

* * *

**Chapter 13: It's Never As Bad As It Seems  
**

After a couple hours of playing with Rue, the little girl was ready for her nap. Lyla carried her upstairs, helping her in the bathroom before she put her in bed, coming back down the stairs when the doorbell rang.

Buddy had already left to go to the banquet, to prepare or something; she was actually sure that he'd gone to the hotel to make sure that Coach Taylor was planning on going, since the Boosters were going to give him a plaque, commemorating his time with the team.

Lyla wondered if the Boosters were aware of the fact that they forced Coach Taylor out, even after he'd brought them to state twice, winning once. But of course they weren't aware, they were a bunch of fat old hypocrites and she was relatively glad that her father had distanced himself a bit from many of them.

Especially after Rue came along.

Without checking the peephole, she opened the door, stunned to see the person standing on her doorstep. She glanced around Tyra, to see if there was anyone else. Julie or maybe Mrs. Taylor, or hell, even Mindy, wanting to maybe drop something off.

She blinked, her voice caught in her throat.

Tyra chuckled. "Yeah, I thought you might be surprised to see me."

"Yeah, well…" What was she supposed to say? Lyla closed her mouth. Maybe it was best to just say nothing at all.

The other woman tossed her bangs from her face, shifting her purse on her shoulder. "I'm not going to ask you to let me in or anything Lyla, but…I know that you and I have never been the best of friends. To be honest I never really wanted to be your friend, but…it's been ten years and…" Tyra sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "Look, I know you probably hate me…"

"I don't hate you."

Tyra opened her eyes, shrugging and whispering. "Why not?"

Why would she? "You didn't do anything wrong," Lyla answered. She smiled slightly. "You just loved Tim too. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Damnit Garrity."

She frowned. "Excuse me?"

"You make this so difficult!" Tyra exclaimed, laughing. She threw her hands in the air. "In high school I couldn't stand you for…you were so perfect! But you're so nice! Ugh!"

Lyla narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here Tyra? It's not to tell me how perfect I was in high school, because if it is, I'm going to slam the door in your face."

Tyra pursed her lips, trying not to smile. She glanced down at her feet and back up again, shifting her weight again to her back leg, waiting a beat. "Um," she began, finally lifting her eyes up. "I came to tell you…that Tim and I…I mean, I loved him, don't get me wrong, I really did and I don't regret that, okay? He wasn't yours to take when we hooked back up."

Lyla narrowed her eyes, whispering. "Really?"

"Seriously Garrity? We were screw buddies. He was miserable, he needed someone to love him and let him have some release and just listen to him. Help him find his way. He didn't call you and my guess is that he didn't want you to see him like that. You guys were done." Tyra ran her tongue over her teeth, whispering. "And even after I went back to school, sure, I returned now and then, but I wasn't his and he wasn't mine, but he wasn't yours either, okay? So I really don't care that you guys hooked up and had a baby."

That was hard to believe, but Lyla said nothing, letting Tyra continue, her voice soft. "And…and I felt terrible when I heard about Rue. Tim didn't tell me until I came back to Dillon on a break from UCLA. I think you were only like seven months pregnant."

"Christmas," Lyla whispered. Rue was born early, towards the end of her eighth month, in January. They all had a family dinner; she thought it was one of the most awkward things ever, with Mindy and Billy and her father there, along with Angela and Tyra and Tim. Then her. Her pregnant self, with a broken baby. She lifted her eyes back up, sighing. "Okay."

"I talked to him for a long time on that break. He was sad, he…he didn't know what to expect, but I thought it was…" Tyra sighed again, lifting her eyes back up, whispering. "I never wanted anything bad to happen to you Lyla, as much as I was annoyed that you'd gotten back in with Tim's life. I was worried for him, okay? He gets…consumed by you. It's weird. I didn't want him to hurt again because of you, but…but he wanted you and he wanted the baby. I could see that."

Lyla leaned a bit harder against the door for support. "Tyra," she whispered, frowning. Not that it wasn't nice to hear these reassuring statements, she still was slightly confused at Tyra Collette's presence on her doorstep. She frowned. "So…what…what are you doing here? I mean…are you coming to say you're in love with Tim or something?"

The other woman snorted. "Am I love with Tim? I just told you I'm not. But I am here to…" She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "This is really hard for me Garrity, so give me a second."

"Take your time," she drawled, crossing her ankles.

Tyra closed her eyes again, taking a deep breath. "You have no idea how hard this is to say for me, um…"

Lyla shrugged. "You've been talking for awhile. Just saying it usually works."

"Fine, well, then fine. I came to say that Tim is hopelessly in love with you. There." Tyra threw her hand in the air, smacking it to her thigh, making a face. "I said it. He's in love with you. He's been going through hell, Lyla. Just…just hell." Tyra shook her hand through her hair, sending it falling over her shoulders again. She laughed. "I don't want Tim the way you want him, Lyla, I told you. Even if I did? It wouldn't matter, because he doesn't want me like that. I'm sorry that he's been keeping things from you about me, but I've been telling him from the beginning to tell you. I just…so yeah." Tyra shrugged again, looking nonchalant once more. "That's what I came to say. You have nothing to worry about with me and if you did, well, I could fight you so…" She smiled slightly, leaving that as a joke. She ran her tongue over her teeth, whispering. "I just felt that I owed you an answer and it's off my chest and now I can sleep better at night. Okay?"

The mistresses of Tim Riggins, Lyla thought, her arms crossed over her chest. She nodded, smiling a little. "Thank you for coming by."

"Yeah, for what it's worth." Tyra lifted her fingers up a little in a silent goodbye, turning and walking back to her car.

Damnit. "Hey, Tyra!" Lyla called, stepping off the porch. She walked over, her arms still over her chest, coming to a stop in front of the other woman. She glanced at the ground and then up, her lips moving around a bit, thinking through her words. She smiled slightly, shifting her weight to her hip. "Um…I…I just wanted to say thank you. Like, really thank you, because you don't need to be here saying these things."

Tyra looked up, smiling slightly. She pursed her lips, glaring at her. "We are not going to be best friends because of this Lyla. I mean it, this is just being nice."

"Of course," Lyla whispered. She leaned out, giving Tyra a tight hug. "Thank you."

"Yeah…are you going to that banquet thing tonight?"

She shook her head, stepping back to the house. "No, I'm not. I have to stay with Rue."

"Oh, yeah, Rue." Tyra shifted a little, calling out. "I'm really sorry about that, you know. I know it must suck to hear stuff like that. Everyone saying they want to help, but they really don't care type of thing, but I mean it…not that I can do anything about it, but I am sorry." She shrugged, her voice dropping. "No kid deserves to…to be in a wheelchair when they're born, you know? For what that's worth."

Finally someone who understood it, Lyla thought. She gestured backwards to the house. "Rue is napping, but…do you want to come inside? Maybe have a glass of wine or something?"

Tyra checked her watch. "I should get back to the house, Mindy might…"

"That's fine," Lyla interrupted. It was a silly idea anyway. Especially after what happened the day before. Maybe it was a false gesture anyway.

"Actually I was going to say that Mindy might need me, but…I guess wine isn't so bad."

Lyla smiled again, turning and going back into the house, holding the door open for Tyra. She closed it and walked through the living room into the kitchen. "Rue should be awake in about an hour, then we do physical therapy, but…she likes to get her nails painted, so I was going to do that again. If you want to have a manicure with us?"

"Let's just start with a glass of wine Garrity." Tyra held out her hand, studying her perfectly manicured nails. She shrugged, walking deeper into the house. "Although I could use a touch-up. So your kid can't walk, huh? What's that like?"

She rolled her eyes, following Tyra into the kitchen and removed two glasses from the shelf and a bottle of wine from the fridge. "It sucks."

"Yeah, will she…" Tyra sighed, glancing at the pink wheelchair. "She ever be able to walk?"

"With crutches. The doctor is hopeful, because of all her therapy that one day she can walk short distances without help." Lyla pushed a glass of wine towards her. She smiled, her hands on her hips, arching an eyebrow. "I gave up one person in a wheelchair for another, only I guess this time it's different. Rue was born this way. She'll be able to walk…hopefully."

Tyra leaned on the counter, taking the glass of wine, frowning at the amount. "You've been living with Riggins too long, this is like two glasses in one."

"Here." Lyla took the glass from her and passed over one that was barely full. She sighed, staring at the giant glass of wine, smiling a little. "To my dear husband."

The other woman grinned, tilting her glass and clinking it. "To your dear husband. I take it you're still going to stay married?"

"Yeah," she whispered, tugging out hervring, smiling. "I am."

"Well," Tyra exclaimed, tilting her glass towards her again. "To your husband and my ex, may I ever be thankful that you got pregnant before me."

Yeah, seriously, Lyla thought, downing a long gulp of the wine. Maybe she had been living with Tim too long. It was barely mid-afternoon. Ah, well, it was five o'clock somewhere.

She smiled at Tyra. "So…psychology."

"So, physical therapy."

"You help people in your way and I help people in mine," she sighed, taking another sip of wine.

Tyra chose that moment to ask about her job in PT, which got them on a long conversation about their professional lives; Rue woke up about an hour and a half later, which led to makeover time, with every compact, tube, and brush of makeup she had scattered across the living room.

It was quite nice, Lyla thought, not really used to having girlfriends. She'd been so consumed with Rue she didn't have time to interact with women her age. Other than Mindy and that didn't usually count.

With Tyra holding Rue in her arms, painting her toenails and Rue choosing the makeup she was going to put on Tyra, drinking wine while Rue had her cup of milk, Lyla wondered if this was the beginning of…

Well, a rather interesting friendship.


	14. Our Love's Enough

**Chapter 14: Our Love's Enough**

"So you ran out pretty quick last night Riggins," Smash said, taking a swig of his beer. He lifted his eyebrows, smiling knowingly. "Wouldn't be a Friday night football game without Riggins getting laid, right?"

"And what about you Williams? Wouldn't be a Friday night football game with just you and yourself."

"I'll have you know that I have a girlfriend back in Miami."

Tim shrugged. "Yes, back in Miami."

"So tell me, how is it being whipped by Lyla Garrity again?"

Jason chuckled, sipping at his beer, looking up at Tim's eyeroll, ignoring the teasing. He wasn't sure what went on between Tim and Lyla, because when they came down the stairs, it seemed like something happened, but…he wasn't sure anymore. Whatever happened between them, they definitely seemed to be able to stand each other's presence again.

He just hoped for Rue's sake they'd figure it all out.

Smash started talking about the Victoria's Secret model he was thinking of dumping, because he'd ran into some girl from high school at a church event his mother made him go to a few weeks ago, Jason didn't remember her, but he thought Smash said her name was Waverly.

While Smash waxed on about his love life, or lack thereof at the moment, Jason wheeled himself away, coming to a stop in front of Coach Taylor, who was talking to a young guy in a military dress uniform. "You ready to get this award Coach?"

"This is stupid," Eric replied.

"Aw, it's kind of nice, they can only honor so many coaches," the other guy said. He offered his hand to Jason. "Luke Cafferty."

"Corporal Luke Cafferty," Eric corrected.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Corporal Luke Cafferty."

The running back, from the East Dillon team, Jason remembered, recognizing him. He was a good talent, but kind of like Tim, in a lot of ways. Very, very good in Dillon. Very good in Texas, but…not enough for a big college and definitely not enough for the pros. Not like Smash.

He also noted the "Ranger" patch on Luke's arm and the large block of fruit salad on his chest as well as the combat infantry insignia. Luke still looked like he was in high school. "Where are you stationed?" he asked.

"Ft. Benning, I'm here visiting my parents and stopped in for this thing, but…I got a pregnant wife at home waiting for me," Luke said, shaking his hand again. "You're Jason Street, though, the sports agent?"

"Yeah," he answered, smiling a little. Jason Street, the sports agent, that's me. Not Jason Street, that kid who broke his neck first game of the season. "Yeah the sports agent."

"Pretty cool. Hey Coach, I'll see you around, nice to meet you Jason, but I got to find Tim to say hey and get something for Becky and then I'm out of here, see you later." Luke gave them a small wave, walking off and finding Tim.

Jason looked up, smiling a little at Coach. "He's a good kid. Makes me feel old though."

"Makes you feel old?" Eric chuckled. He sipped at his beer, smiling slightly. "How are you Jason? We haven't had a chance to really talk this visit."

"I'm good sir."

"And…the divorce?" Eric asked, quiet.

"Yeah, that…it's going to be what it's going to be." Jason scanned the room, taking note of the old teammates of his. They were all ranging between 26 and 30, mostly, lots of them still acting like teenagers, but…they really weren't anymore. A decade did something. College, in most cases, did things to people.

Took you from the kid whose biggest moments of their life were playing football and changed them into people who just…it wasn't anymore.

His eyes fell on Tim, who was smiling at something Smash said, the two of them pushing at each other. He lifted them back up to Coach. "It's been ten years Coach and…and this moment ten years ago I didn't know if I was even going to be here."

Eric smiled again. "You're a very good young man Jason. I'm very proud of you, of what you've accomplished when your world turned upside down."

"Thanks sir." He looked up when Buddy went up to the microphone, chuckling. "Guess it's about that time."

"I guess so," Eric grumbled, walking away from him towards the front table, taking a seat beside Tami and Julie.

Jason wheeled himself over to his table, but saw Tim disappearing out of the hall. He glanced at the podium. They'd already had their speech with Coach; this was more for the Boosters. He wheeled himself out, finding Tim standing in front of the parking lot, his hands in his pockets.

The "banquet" if you could call it that, was at Buddy's Bar, so the small parking lot was full of cars. He looked up at the sign, noting that the 'Y' was out, so it spelled "Budd's Bar" instead. What little light the sign gave off fell over Tim's face, throwing it into relief.

He came to a stop beside Tim. "You don't want to go inside? They're giving the speech."

"I'm fine," he whispered.

"Okay."

They were quiet for a few minutes, Tim glancing down at him. "I'm sorry about you and Erin," he whispered. He cleared his throat. "And I'm sorry you…had to get involved with me and Lyla."

Wow. Jason looked up. Tim was…that was very…a huge step in some sort of personal development for him. He nodded, whispering. "Thank you."

"You're my best friend Jason. All I wanted was for you to have…good things. You deserve it."

That sounded like what you said when I went up to the house, to tell Erin that I had a job and I was moving in, he remembered. You're so selfless that you're selfish, he'd said to Tim the other day.

It just depended on what it was…most of the time Tim was just selfish and ignorant of others around him, but not in a mean way, just…he just didn't think that far ahead of himself. But when he was selfless…it was like martyr. He'd go to the end of the earth to make sure someone else was happy, if it meant ruining his life, and what had annoyed Jason his entire life was that Tim never really expected anything in return when he did those things.

He folded his hands in his lap, glancing down at them. "I'm so sorry I never…I'm sorry I never visited you in jail…I mean…I wrote the letters, but…."

"Why didn't you visit?"

His eyes closed. Hell if he knew. The moment he found out, he couldn't believe it. Until his father explained to him that it really seemed like to a lot of people that Billy was the one who was breaking the law, but…Tim was always going to go down a bad path, according to his parents, and they gave up on him after the accident, when he disappeared from them.

It took some thinking, but he figured it out. Billy was the one who broke the law and Tim took the blame. That frustrated him so much he almost didn't contact Tim out of annoyance at that very thing. Ruining your life for your brother, new low Tim.

Or a new high, it depended on how you looked at it.

"I really don't know," he answered. He shrugged, his voice quiet. "I think I just thought you'd made your choices, so…you were going to live with them."

"You had a good life Jason, I really didn't want to mess that up."

"So much for my life," he whispered. "Divorced at 28, with an eight-year old son…the work is…its just work and I let that ruin my marriage." And he really didn't think that it was going to help if he found another job. Erin had been burned by his career more than once. They couldn't agree on things anymore.

Tim scoffed, his fingers going through his hair. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

That they were. He closed his eyes briefly. "Tim…I have to let you know something that happened yesterday."

"Yeah?"

He looked up, Tim's eyes studying him curiously. "Lyla called me after…after she found you and Tyra and she was…she was yelling and screaming and really upset, so I went to pick her up…she was on the side of the road. I took her home and we…" He closed his eyes tight. It really wasn't a kiss. It was, but…not a real one. "Well we kissed."

The sound of cars from the road blew by, the trees rustling lightly. Tim glanced down at him a second later, after processing that information, whispering. "You kissed? Like…like a real kiss or…"

"No tongue." Were they in junior high again? He remembered when he first kissed Lyla. Tim was one of the first people he told, he was so damn happy about it. When he'd told his best friend, all Tim had said was now he just had to lose his virginity and he'd be caught up with the rest of the team.

The gears worked in Tim's mind. "Huh," he said a second later, running his tongue over his teeth.

"You can hit me, if you want."

"No, no I won't hit you." After a second, Tim kicked at the wheel of his chair, sending him a couple inches sideways. "There. Consider that me hitting you."

He laughed, shaking his head and grinning up at his friend, who was hiding a small smile. "Trust me Tim, there's nothing between us but friendship. She was confused and scared and didn't know what was happening between the both of you, but…you told me a long time ago that Lyla was hopelessly in love with me and now I am sitting here Tim, telling you that Lyla is so in love with you and…"

He trailed off, unsure if he should make this judgment, but he felt he needed to. "And she just wants to be with you, but I think she's scared of how…how you guys were kind of forced into this thing by fate and that she might seriously be in love with you. The guy she wasn't supposed to be with, wasn't supposed to come back to Dillon for…she was supposed to leave and you…sucked her back in and she…she's just still scared about how that makes her feel. I think."

A roar of cheers and applause tricked out of the bar from inside. Tim glanced over his shoulder at it, but made no move to return to the party. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, glancing sideways again, and his lips in a thin smile. "You ever think of coming back?"

It had crossed his mind. Maybe move to Austin, start his own sports agency. It never moved beyond general wondering. He shook his head slightly. "No Tim. Even with the divorce…I'm more at home in New York than I ever was here in Texas. Face it, I was always going to leave."

"But you'll always have Texas."

Yes. They would always have Texas. He reached his fist up, Tim bumping against it. "You're the caretaker, Riggins," he said, shrugging. "You have the house, you have the land…I'll come visit whenever I can."

"You're not leaving just yet Street."

"No, but…in case we don't have time to talk."

Tim lifted an eyebrow, taking a few steps back towards the parking lot. "It's always here Six. Whenever you want it."

Forever, he thought, watching Tim go to his truck. "Where are you going?" he called.

"I'm going home to my girls." Tim jumped up into the cab of the truck, leaning out the window, calling out. "You should think of doing the same, Six. Go home to the redhead, do whatever you can to get her back…it doesn't have to be the way you think it has to be. You got her the first time. Try again."

Maybe so, he thought, his hands tight on the wheels of his chair. He watched Tim drive away, chuckling to himself. He hoped he wouldn't see Tim back that night.

He reached into the pocket of his chair, removing his cell phone. It was late in New York, but…he made the call, lifting the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Erin?"

After a moment, she sighed. "Jason, it's very late. Why are you calling?"

Why was he calling? They'd made the decision. They'd signed the papers. He closed his eyes, breathing deep. "I'm just letting you know that when I come back, things are going to be different. I'm going to get you back."

"Jason…"

"Just giving you a heads up. You may be able to run, but I have wheels, I'll catch up." He smiled wide. "Goodnight. Tell Noah I love him, I'll call him tomorrow." He hung up before she had a chance to get her words back.

The gauntlet was thrown.

The door opened, Smash leaning out. "Hey Street! Riggins can run out on these things, we don't expect any less of him, but get back in here!"

Jason grinned; turning and rolling his chair back to the bar.


	15. We Can Learn to Love Again

**A/N**: This is majorly long, but I couldn't split it up, it wouldn't have made sense. I probably should have posted this in the beginning, but the story itself and many of the chapter titles were inspired by Pink's song "Just Give Me A Reason" with Nate Ruess, from fun. I've added some of the lyrics to the beginning of this fic, which kind of show at least Tim and Lyla's story in this fic, but it could also fit a little with Jason and Tim, for instance. Enjoy and thank you for the reviews!

* * *

_"Just give me a reason, Just a little bit's enough, Just a second we're not broken just bent, And we can learn to love again...Oh, tear ducts and rust; I'll fix it for us; We're collecting dust; But our love's enough; You're holding it in; You're pouring a drink; No nothing is as bad as it seems; We'll come clean" - Just Give Me a Reason, Pink and Nate Ruess_

* * *

**Chapter 15: We Can Learn to Love Again**

To be honest, Tim wasn't sure he knew what he was going to do. He and Lyla agreed the night before that they still had things to talk about; they still were going to stay separated.

That didn't mean though that they had to be separated the entire time, right?

He stopped to get gas in the truck, as well as a bouquet of daisies, for the very special girl in his life, smiling a little as he set them on the passenger seat. He didn't expect her to be willing to let him stay the entire night, which was fine, but it was still a bit before Rue's bedtime and he wanted to be with her.

Several minutes later, he arrived at Buddy's house, noting a familiar car in the drive, but he couldn't quite place it. Huh, Garrity must have a friend over or something. Whatever. He went up to the door, knocking and then letting himself in, calling out. "Lyla?"

There was a ton of laughter from the living room; maybe they were watching a movie or something. He stepped around the corner of the den, pausing and staring at the sight of Lyla sitting on the floor laughing, holding a bottle of beer while ice cream melted on the coffee table. On the couch, Tyra leaned over Rue's feet, painting her toenails hot pink.

Rue's face lit up when she saw him. "Daddy!" she squealed. She tried to roll off the couch, Tyra catching her before she did. "Look! My toes!"

"I see your toes, they're pretty," he commented, still not sure how to process the information that Tyra and Lyla were laughing together. He swallowed hard. "Um…what's going on? Hey baby," he said, Rue bumping her chair into his legs. He placed his hand on her shoulder as she tried to bump him again. He glared down at her. "Stop it. First warning," he said, his voice firm, holding up a finger. "I'm not gonna' tell you again." She'd been pushing her chair into him a lot lately when she didn't get her way.

She scowled at him. He lifted an eyebrow and she just giggled. See, he thought, glancing at Lyla's semi-surprised look. I can be the disciplinarian. Sometimes.

On the couch, Tyra laughed again, smiling up at him. "Hey Tim. How was the dinner thing?"

"Okay, I left early, um…" They looked like they were having fun. He didn't want to interrupt…not to talk about important things when…Lyla didn't seem like it. He glanced at Rue, who was chattering away about her painted nails. He gestured to her, meeting Lyla's eyes. "I'm going to take Rue back to my house, you guys…carry on."

Lyla finished her bottle of beer, getting to her feet. "It's okay, she can stay here."

"Yeah, I was just leaving."

"You okay to drive? You can stay here no problem."

Tyra laughed, gathering her purse and car keys. "As much fun as a slumber party would be with you Lyla, I stopped drinking a couple of hours ago and had more than my fair share of pizza and ice cream. I should get back to the house. I'll see you around. Bye Tim."

Rue wiggled her fingers. "Bye Tyra!"

"Bye sweetheart, it's been so much fun," Tyra said, hugging and kissing Rue goodbye. She sent a small smile in his direction, patting his shoulder as she walked out.

He looked over at Lyla, who was still sitting on the floor, looking up at him. There was something incredibly wild about her, sitting there with her t-shirt falling off her shoulder, her hair wild around her face, wearing black nail polish and holding a bottle of beer.

One day she'd told him in high school, when he asked her why she dumped the Christian guy for him, that the reason was because he never saw anything but the perfect girl.

_"You always saw the flawed girl hiding behind the perfection."_

And he always had, he thought slightly, smiling at the wild Garrity in front of him.

She arched an eyebrow. "Those flowers for me?"

"No," he said, cocking his head. He smiled, presenting them to Rue. "They're for her."

Rue giggled, holding the small bouquet of daisies, pulling one out and handing it to Lyla, who got up from the floor, walking over to them. "Here Mommy."

"Thank you," she said, sniffing it and smiling up at him. "You left early."

He drew her closer, his hand spreading in the small of her back. "I wanted to see my girl."

Lyla lifted her eyebrow. "Oh?"

Leaning in, he turned away from her, kneeling down at Rue. "My girl. What do you say Rue? You want to come stay with me tonight?"

"Tim, she needs the stability."

He sighed, swallowing hard. Yes, stability. He looked up, his voice quiet. "She should be in her bed at home."

"It's almost her bedtime Tim."

Fine, he wasn't going to win this argument. He picked up Rue from her chair, carrying her upstairs to get her a bath and bedtime. He missed doing this. An hour later, she was asleep in bed, hugging her beloved Floppy stuffed rabbit.

I miss you, he thought, his hand spreading over her dark hair, his fingers drifting over the scars along the back of her neck. She rolled over a little and he closed his eyes briefly, reaching to lift up the back of her t-shirt, staring at the puckered pink little scars along her spine.

It killed him and Lyla. Billy told him during the pregnancy that when your kid hurt, you hurt about twenty times more, because they usually didn't understand it, but you certainly did.

"We barely got to see her before they took her away."

He lifted his head; Lyla was watching him from the doorway. His eyes fell back down to Rue, who had rolled onto her back. He returned the sheet and blanket up over her shoulders, making sure that she was settled.

When he stood, he felt Lyla come up behind him. "Think we'd…" she sighed. Don't finish that question. It did no good to think of what if situations. Her voice cracked. "Think we'd be having all these problems if she…if we didn't have to deal with all her…with her disability?"

Maybe. Probably. See? It did no good to think of these things. He scrubbed at his face, his arms crossing his chest. "I don't know Lyla."

"I think we'd still be like this," she whispered.

Well that was good to know. He didn't want to talk about this in the same room as Rue. He stepped away from the bed, going out into the hall and to the stairs, but halfway down the steps, Lyla called out.

"I love you."

He froze. Very slowly, he tilted his head up, seeing her leaning over the banister. She smiled, reaching to tuck her hair behind her ear, her hands folded out in front of her. The ring he'd returned to her this morning was back on the chain, dangling over her fingers.

Her eyes sparkled, but she wasn't about to cry. "It's true," she breathed. She smiled again. "I love you Tim. I didn't say it last night, but…thought you should know. It may…seem like I don't, but…" She breathed shakily, biting her lip hard. Her voice cracked again. "You scare me so much because you make me feel like this."

"I scare you," he whispered.

"You terrify me. You're Tim Riggins, you know?"

"Not the same."

She shook her head, whispering. "No, you just…" she sighed again. She shrugged, her smile returning. "You just make me…make me do things that most sane women would…they'd have run away a long time ago and not put up with you and that scares me. Okay?"

Scares me too, he thought, lifting an eyebrow, whispering. "You didn't leave me before."

"Because we actually…fought things through." She smiled briefly. "Guess this is something we had to just…keep pushing through."

He sighed, lifting her eyes back up, smiling a little. You love me, he thought with a small smile, lifting his face back up to hers. "You know," he said. He shook his head slightly, taking a few steps down the stairs; part of him thought it best to just go…another part said hell no.

That part won.

He turned quickly, taking the steps two at a time until he got to the top, where she was already waiting, her arms instantly around his neck, grabbing hold of him in a hard and fast kiss.

A moment later, he murmured against her lips, feeling her chest rising and falling rapidly against his. "You know, I love you too."

She giggled, kissing him again, whispering against his lips. "I mean, I figured."

They broke away, his hand in hers, walking down the stairs. He went out onto the back patio, waiting for her to close the door to keep the AC inside. He sat on the railing of the banister, while she took a seat in the glider, her legs and arms crossing.

"I think we should still stay apart," she said, lifting her eyes. "However…I think we should…talk, like…every day or something."

"Every day?"

"Maybe 30 minutes or so," she said, quirking her lip up. "It might just be me talking."

Probably, he thought, his arms crossing his chest in defense. "I work just as much as you Garrity," he breathed. "But…" He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before slowly letting it out. He'd been thinking…not like he enjoyed doing that a lot of the time, but…it made sense and it was his choice, not because she pushed him into it. "I will…I've been…I'll take the contractor test."

She nodded, whispering. "Good."

"And don't think it's because of you," he snapped, his eyes on hers. "I'm doing this because I want to do it. Not because you're forcing me and you know, I don't want you to tell me I work less than you Garrity, because one night a week I want to just sit down on the couch and watch TV with a beer. I work just as hard."

"Yeah, you can do that," she said, laughing a little. Her brow wrinkled. "But when I work just as much as you and all I want to do is sit down with a book or a movie or just take a shower…I have to deal with Rue or I have to do the dishes or laundry…"

He ran his tongue over his teeth again, thinking. He smiled slightly. "One night a week, we…just us. Rue and Buddy can get their grandfather-granddaughter time."

It progressed like that for much of the night. She'd say something they should do, he'd counter it. It was probably one of the most grown-up conversations they'd had since…well since forever, he thought, finally getting up from the floor of the porch, where he'd been sitting as they fought it over. It reached a point where she started writing it all down, like a damn contract.

It was almost midnight when she set down her pen on the pad of paper, looking up. "What?" he asked, his back against the house wall.

She turned her head sideways, frowning. "You didn't say…I just…I want to know, because I think…you owe me that, but, um…are you and Tyra…you guys…" She sighed hard. "What do you talk about?"

The counseling. The counseling that wasn't officially counseling. He had no real idea how it even started.

Maybe he did, actually, he thought, lifting his eyes. He walked over, sitting down beside her, their legs stretched out side by side. He closed his eyes, whispering. "It was after that fight…after Rue had the infection and we were in the hospital…"

* * *

"Tim where are you!? I'm in the ER with Rue, she's got a 104 degree fever, they've got her in the back and are putting fluids in her and giving her ice baths… please call me."

_Beep_

"Tim, so help me God, I am going to hurt you when I see you again, please, please call me!"

_Beep_

"This is my twentieth message Tim Riggins and I've had it! I'm in the ER with our daughter who is sick and miserable and wants her daddy and I can't answer her because you're at a bar getting freaking smashed off your ass drunk!"

_Beep_

"Consider this my last message on the matter Tim. Come to the hospital or don't, you've disappointed Rue. I really could care less that you've disappointed me."

_He ran through the messages on his phone, over and over again, on a constant rewind, Billy driving like a maniac after picking him up at Buddy's, the bar, since he really couldn't drive, even if he was sobering up just from those messages._

_He tried calling her, but got no response. All she ever called about was to nag him on something, so he didn't answer the one time, and now this was happening. "Faster!" he yelled at Billy, who hit the accelerator of the truck, finally spinning into the parking lot, beneath the ER banner at Dillon Regional. _

_He flew from the car, running in and through the double doors, yelling at the admin desk. "Rue Riggins, where is she? Little girl, she's…she's three, she's got spine problems, um…nevermind."_

_Lyla was standing outside of a room, her arms over her chest. She shook her head slowly, her face a fury of emotions. He dropped his gaze from her eyes; they were pure fire. He reached for her, but she pushed his hand away. "Don't you touch me. Don't you even look at me," she snapped. _

_Yeah, he knew she wasn't going to be welcoming. "Lyla," he whispered, his eyes closed. The amount of grief she would give him wasn't near the amount he was already giving himself. "Please. Where is Rue?"_

_"She's sleeping. They gave her high-dose antibiotics and are going to keep her for observation. They're changing her catheter too. She got a bladder infection. Her fever ended up spiking to 104, they had to put her in an ice bath to start bringing it down." Her voice was monotone; her eyes didn't meet his. She shook her head, her voice tight. "You are…unbelievable Tim."_

_"Why? Because I went out?"_

_"Because you refused to answer my phone calls."_

_"Because they're usually telling me to stop working or to get another shift or you have another shift or I did something wrong, so sorry for not answering!" he barked. He wasn't going to have this. He was already killing himself for not answering, he didn't need her harping on him again._

_Lyla pushed his shoulders hard. "You're drunk," she whispered, walking him back down the hall, hitting his shoulders again. "I married a drunk! I needed you, I needed you and you weren't here," she cried, pushing at his shoulders. "Why don't you help me?" _

_Don't…he thought, his eyes widening at the fury in her eyes and voice. "Lyla, stop!" he exclaimed, grabbing her arms when she tried to push him again, knocking her a step back. "Stop!"_

_"You stop!" she yelled. She sobbed, falling backwards on her heels. "I hate you," she cried, her voice thick and the tears falling down her face, which was turning pink. "I hate you so much, I wish…"_

_Say it, he thought, waiting. He wouldn't encourage it, because she'd say it. She wiped at her eyes, hiccupping. "Sometimes I wish I never came back here."_

_There. Done. _

_He waited a moment, his hands shoving into his pockets, whispering. "Well you did, so…you know, sorry about that. Ever think that maybe I hate you too for showing up at my doorstep? Nothing good ever comes from you Lyla Garrity. Jason got paralyzed when he was with you, my life ended when you left me…your daughter can't even walk and last I read, it was when she was inside of you that she got all messed up!"_

_I deserve that, he instantly thought, feeling the slap. This was hard, angry, and he closed his eyes, drawing his face up, tasting blood on his tongue from where he'd bit it. Good. _

_Lyla pointed her finger at him, stepping backwards towards the room, while a few nurses began to make their way over to the two of them, along with a security guard. "Stay away from me."_

_"Gladly," he spat out. He turned away from her, making his way down the hall, fumbling with his phone. The exhaust from the automatic doors blew against his face when he stepped outside into the cool spring night, his fingers stabbing at numbers._

_I need to talk to someone. I want a drink, I can't have a drink…Billy…he knew Billy would…Billy would side with Lyla…he…he didn't want to talk to Jason…Jason had been so distant lately. Something about his marriage, he said . _

_Can't be worse than mine, he thought, seeing a number he hadn't called in a long time. He fell back against the wall of the hospital, hitting it, lifting the phone to his ear._

_"Hello?"_

_He was quiet, not answering. She cursed, saying she was going to call the police until whoever it was answered. "It's me," he whispered._

_"Oh Jesus, Tim, I thought it was some pervert. What do you want? It's like midnight."_

_"I…" Why was he calling her? He slumped farther down the wall, crouching on the ground. He closed his eyes, scrubbing at his face with his free hand. "I know you hate me."_

_"I don't hate you."_

_"I need to talk to you," he whispered. He closed his eyes tight, feeling tears. He hiccupped fighting them back with a few deep breaths. "I…I want a friend, please, Tyra, please."_

_"Tim are you drunk?"_

_"No…I don't know. Maybe."_

_"Where is Lyla?"_

_"In the hospital, I…Rue is sick. She's…she's really sick again." I can't keep doing this. All his life, he's never questioned. There was a period where he did, lying in his cell, staring up at the ceiling from the top bunk, wondering how he ended up there. Why did it happen to him? It was just a brief thought._

_Then he figured he could have taken the bad hit, snapped his neck, and ended up in a chair, so he let those thoughts immediately pass. _

_He bit his lip hard. "My daughter's not even four and she's been in the hospital for…half her life."_

_"Tim."_

_"I'm sorry. I shouldn't…shouldn't have called you." He made a move to pull the phone from his ear when he heard her quiet sigh. He paused, waiting a beat. _

_Tyra sighed again. "Tim, does Lyla know you're talking to me?"_

_"It was bad Tyra. I…I said some things…I never say stuff like it."_

_"What did you say?"_

_So he told her; told her what he told his wife upstairs. The woman he married, he wasn't sure that made her a wife. He wasn't much of a husband. Told her the awful things he'd said. _

_After the next fifteen minutes progressed with her quieting questioning him, Tyra finally sighed one last time. "Tim, if you can, I want to see you in person. Can you come to my office next week?"_

_"Office?"_

_"It's in Austin. Just call me and let me know. You need to let Lyla know too."_

_"You gonna' shrink me?"_

_"I can't legally treat you as a patient, you're family. I can, however, provide you advice as a member of your family with a counseling license."_

_He didn't think this would be a good idea in the long run, but…he needed someone to tell these things. He'd learned that the hard way, a long time ago, when he bottled in everything. _

_"Okay," he answered._

_"Go back into that hospital and kiss your baby girl. Tell your wife you're sorry for what you said. Sober up. Count your blessings that…that Rue can one day walk, even for a short time. Things can always be worse. You could have gotten shanked in prison."_

_"Wasn't that kind of prison, Tyra."_

_"Doesn't matter. Lyla could have never come back. You could have never even had Rue. Think on that Tim." _

_He said goodbye, hanging up the phone. He got back to his feet and returned to the room, finding they'd moved her to ICU. He was allowed into the small little space, with the children's bed, Rue lying so still, Lyla's hand holding hers. _

_Lyla lifted her eyes, which were dull and lifeless. She dropped them down to Rue. He took a seat on the other side of the bed, reaching to touch Rue's hand, his fingers lightly brushing Lyla's. _

_She pulled away slightly, but very slowly crept them back towards his, not moving, just lightly touching. "I'm so sorry," he whispered._

_"I'm sorry too," she whispered, but didn't meet his eyes. She swallowed hard. "I needed you."_

_"I'm sorry," he repeated. _

_She shook her head and closed her eyes, whispering. "I know you're beating yourself up, but…" she let it hang there, sighing. "I...needed...you," she simply repeated._

_Neither of them said a word after that._

* * *

"I just needed someone to listen to me," he finished, turned his head against hers, their fingers folding together. "Someone not Jason or Billy or…someone who was removed." He shook his head, whispering. "I didn't know how to tell you I was going to my ex-girlfriend for…life advice I guess. Or that I even was. It was stupid. I should have told you, but I was worried you'd…I needed that one person removed thing, if that makes sense."

Lyla played with their intertwined fingers. "You don't need to be embarrassed by it," she whispered.

"I was worried you'd freak out, it is Tyra."

"I don't hate Tyra," she said, quiet. She frowned a little. "Everyone thinks that, but…I don't. I guess I just…I was worried she was your backup if…if things didn't work out with me and then…"

"You need to trust me," he said.

She nodded, her eyes closing. "I know."

They talked for a few minutes about it all, finally ending when Lyla got up with the contract they'd sort of put together, going into the house to put it away and get something to drink.

He went upstairs to check on Rue, finding her awake, staring up at the ceiling. "Hey," he whispered, stepping over to her, kneeling at her bedside, his hand checking her forehead for a fever or something. He frowned. "Why didn't you say you were awake? You feel okay?"

Rue nodded, hugging Floppy to her chest. She was three, but Tim always thought there was more to her thoughts and her mind than anyone could fathom. She was his daughter, after all.

"Daddy?"

Whenever he heard that word, even after three years, his heart kind of fluttered nervously. Pretty crazy that he was a daddy. "Yeah?"

"Can I go home?" She fiddled with Floppy, smiling slightly. "Please?"

Do you try to kill me? Seriously? He nudged at her shoulder, crawling carefully into the small bed. "Move on over Rue-Bug."

She giggled and he helped her move over a little, his arm going around the top of her pillow, his other over her small body, holding her close. "Can we go home?" she repeated, her voice soft.

Since he and Lyla still didn't have an answer to that, he replied vaguely. "Soon Rue," he whispered, kissing her cheek and settling against her, his eyes closing. "I'll stay with you until you go to sleep, if you want to feel like you're at home, like we do when you have bad dreams, okay?"

Rue nodded, her eyes closing, holding Floppy. He stroked her hair, waiting until he felt her even breathing. He lay with her a few minutes longer, looking up at Lyla's presence in the room again. "She needs to come home Garrity," he whispered. That was a given. Six weeks was long enough.

Lyla nodded, wiping at her eyes, her hands going to her hips. "We'll take her home tomorrow."

"And you need to come with her."

Lyla bit her bottom lip. He knew it made better sense during their separation to not be in the same house, but…it was starting to affect Rue, if she was asking to return to her home. Or the place she thought was her home. She couldn't live like this any longer.

He continued. "Tonight's been great, I mean…seriously? It's been great for us, but…we can't keep working on this thing…this thing with us if we're not even in the same house. You need to come home, please Garrity."

After a moment of wrestling with it, she closed her eyes and nodded. "We'll go home tomorrow."

He closed his eyes, whispering. "I'm sorry, about the hospital thing. Few months ago."

She released a sigh, walking over to sit at the foot of the bed. She covered Rue's foot, patting lightly, whispering. "Once spoken, you can't take words back, but…I'm so sorry for what I said. I was so scared and…you weren't there and I needed you there and you know how much that freaks me out." She closed her eyes tight. "I can't take back what I said, but…" She bit her lip, whispering. "I am sorry. Coming back here was…a turning point, but I don't regret it."

"Me too."

They remained quiet for a few minutes, until Rue made a little sound in her sleep, curling close to him. He lowered his lips to her temple, kissing lightly.

They were going home.


	16. Something Nice

**Chapter 16: Something Nice**

Where the hell was Tim?

It was like…Jason glanced at the microwave. He was getting old. It was like 10.

Maybe Tim was finally with Lyla for the evening. Damn he sure hoped so; half their frustration and tension with each other might go away if they just got laid.

He yawned, wheeling himself towards the staircase. So much for partying it up with the guys; they'd all kind of split up. Henry Saracen was acting out because it was past his bedtime, so Matt and Julie had to return to the hotel. Smash was off to try to woo back his high school girlfriend before he left for Miami the next day.

Everyone else had families they had to return to, although some guys were headed off to the lake to party. The thing with that was, Jason really didn't feel like 'partying.' That seemed so…so high school.

He was about to lift himself into the chair lift Tim had installed for his visit, glancing at the door when there was a light knock. Couldn't be Riggins or Lyla. They'd just let themselves in.

Huh.

"Hang on!" he called out, turning his chair around and wheeling from the stairs to the door, carefully gripping the doorknob with his cramping fingers, he reminded himself that he had to do his exercises before he went to bed, and turning carefully. He wheeled back with one hand while he pulled the door open, peeking around to see who this late-night visitor was.

Tyra stood beyond the threshold, lifting her hand in a small wave. Her fingernails were painted like 1000 different colors; Jason frowned. "Hey Jason," she greeted him, holding a paper bag with her purse.

"Hey." He shrugged a shoulder, surprised to find her there. "Um…Tim's not here. He's...well I have no idea where he might be, but hopefully it's with his wife." This was a little odd. Surely Tyra knew that or else…well maybe she wanted to talk to Tim privately, after this whole debacle of the last two days.

He cleared his throat, speaking before she had a chance. "I thought you'd be back in Austin by now."

"Um, well, I had a few drinks with Lyla Riggins. It was surreal. Tim came over, so I left, but…figured you might be alone, and I heard about your marital issues, so…" Tyra held up the paper bag, grinning. "Brought a little gift to you."

A tiny smile tugged on his lips, remembering the last time she brought him a paper bag of booze. He'd definitely needed it then. Right now he wasn't sure he needed it so much as he just wanted it. Erin hadn't called him back since he told her flat out he was going to win her back, not that he really expected it, but…a reaction might have been nice.

Tyra was one of the only people who never treated him like he was in a wheelchair. It didn't register with her. Not the way it had with Tim, completely ignoring his very existence for those few weeks. Or Lyla, absolutely ignoring the chair but consuming herself with getting him out of it. Or anyone else in town, with those false feelings of wanting to help and feeling sorry.

He wheeled himself back, allowing her to enter. "So why aren't you headed back to Austin?"

"I just figured I'd hang around Dillon for one more night. It's been awhile since I've been back. Last time was probably six months ago when I moved back to Texas." Tyra slipped off her jacket, hanging it over the newel post and dropping her purse on the floor, walking down the corridor, pausing to study a photo of Tim, Lyla, and Rue at Disneyland.

All three of them were wearing Mickey Mouse ears, with Lyla and Rue's having the Minnie bow. Tim was scowling. "That was his hell," Jason said, wheeling by her into the kitchen. "It was mine too, actually, when I took Noah last year."

"I've never been and I never want to go."

"Yeah, you don't strike me as a girl who idolized the Princesses."

"I always wondered why they didn't just go save the guy. Plus, I always wondered what happened after happily ever after." Tyra sighed, removing the bottle of Jack Daniels from the paper bag, turning to a cabinet and taking down two juice glasses. "I mean…you can have your little fairytales, but…in the end it ends up just kind of like Tim and Lyla you know?"

"Bitter resentment from accidental pregnancy, unrealized dreams, and suppression of true love because you're just two of the biggest idiots to walk the planet?"

Tyra snorted her laugh, grinning and handing him a juice glass full of whiskey. "Yeah," she laughed. "It ends up just like that."

"Eh, they've got their happy end. Hopefully."

"Yeah, hopefully," Tyra said, clinking her juice glass to his. "To happy endings."

"Happy endings." Jason tilted back his cup, swallowing the whiskey hard. He shivered a little. It had been awhile since he had whiskey. He set the cup between his knees, wheeling out the open French doors.

After a minute, Tyra joined him, sitting down in one of the chairs beside him, flicking on the permanent paper lantern lights that were strung along the back porch eaves. She sighed, looking out at the dark landscape. "I remember sitting here with Tim, before any of this was built. It was gorgeous. To see someone realize what they wanted."

Yeah, must have been nice. "I wonder why he didn't call me," he whispered, sipping his whiskey. Not that he really thought hard about it. They'd drifted apart. Both of their faults.

"He didn't call anyone, Jason. He didn't call me. I was the one who came back to visit."

"Seems like you almost stayed too."

Tyra glanced sideways, tossing her hair from her eyes. She shrugged a shoulder, whispering. "It's nice to come back, you feel…homesick sort of. You get kind of caught up in something that's nice and steady and feels good at the time. Then it wears off and you realize that it's just that…that homesickness you didn't realize you felt."

"You were homesick for Tim?"

"I was homesick for someone to care for me, I guess. Believe me Jason, I wasn't going to end up back in Dillon, I mean…I always wanted out of this place and Tim never wanted to leave. Not even to go college three hours away."

Tyra smiled, glancing back at him. "You miss Dillon? Mr. New York?"

No way, he thought, shaking his head negatively. He took a sip of whiskey, holding his glass out for her to pour in some more. "Nah, I mean…like you said. It's nice to come back, but…I can't imagine living here again."

"Same."

"Whatever happened to you and Landry?"

Tyra choked on her drink, coughing for a few minutes. Whoops, he thought. Maybe he could have broached the topic a little better. She cleared her throat, shrugging her shoulder, whispering. "The easiest answer to that is we grew out of high school. The bad answer that I don't like to admit is that once I got to UT, I didn't want any connections to Dillon. None. Not even Landry." She licked her lips, smiling slightly. "I was selfish and mean to a great guy that helped me get where I was. It took me about four years to realize that for myself."

"Can't shrink a shrink."

"Well I figured it out on my own, after one of my classes. Even used it as a study for one of my papers, believe it or not." She pushed her fingers through her hair, whispering. "I saw him a couple years ago, at Matt and Julie's wedding. He didn't come to the event this year, he…he's working overseas. Some sort of international law thing." She sighed again, whispering. "I apologized. Felt like my heart was just…beating out my chest the whole time because I was so sorry."

Jason whispered. "Did he forgive you? For…whatever it was you were apologizing for?"

"Yeah. Because he's a great guy." She smiled, whispering. "And he moved on. Found a girl that wanted nothing but him. Living in The Hague, wherever the hell that is, with a hot European girlfriend…he's very different from the Landry Clarke of Dillon, Texas."

We're all very different from our previous versions, Jason thought, trying to reconcile what she was saying with goofy Landry. He supposed it was like reconciling the dark and brooding Tim who actually allowed a photograph of himself wearing a Winnie the Pooh outfit to go with Rue's Tigger one, to be posted in the front hall for all to see.

An owl hooted in the distance, reminding him of the quiet between him and Tyra again. A few minutes later, Tyra slouched backwards in the chair, looking up at the porch ceiling again. "I'm glad Lyla got pregnant."

That was a weird statement to make. Jason narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because it meant that I was free, as horrible as that sounds." She sighed, whispering. "I figure I can tell you, because you know them better than I do, but…I was terrified of hurting Tim. I felt like he was putting all his eggs in one basket, you know? I didn't want to be the one to break his heart and it looked like that's where it was going…then he told me about Lyla and…oh my God Jason, I swear I was so relieved. Hurt, pretty hurt because he didn't tell me about her, but…relieved later on."

He could see that.

They sat and spoke quietly for a few more minutes, which was really nice. He'd forgotten how…layered Tyra was. So many people thought of her as just one thing and when she opened her mouth, she immediately proved them wrong. She wasn't just a pretty face, so to speak. Even if they'd never really hung out, even in school.

It had always been the three of them. Jason, Tim, and Lyla. Jason and Tim. Jason and Lyla. Tim and Lyla. The two best friends and the girl they both loved. Even when he and Lyla were together and Tyra was with Tim, she just came around now and then to fight with Tim before he blew her off and the three of them went down to the lake or something.

After the accident, during that whole year of transition, he'd lost Tyra somehow. She went off to better herself, he left school, and Tim and Lyla went into their various spirals of emotional breakdowns for the next two years.

He tipped the last bit of the bottle into his glass, smiling at her. "So, you like Austin?"

"It's a job. I came back because of the boys. They were missing me…it was a good job. Got into UT to get my Ph.D. too."

"You strike me more as a Los Angeles girl."

"I actually like New York more than Los Angeles, I'd like to end up there one day, maybe after I get my doctorate." Tyra snorted, more than a bit buzzed. "Oh my God, doctorate. Tyra Collette, getting her Ph.D."

"Jason Street, getting a divorce."

"Aw, that's not very good." Tyra smiled around the rim of her glass. "You'll be fine Jason. I know it."

He sure as hell hoped so. He sighed. "This weekend has been insane."

"Tell me about it. For a minute there I thought I actually broke up the indestructible Tim and Lyla."

"Or they're destructible, but only because of each other."

"Rue is so lucky to have them both. She was such a happy little kid tonight, I mean…damn I don't remember being three, but I'm pretty sure I wasn't as happy as that kid was to see her father walk through the door or have her mother play some silly little game with her." Tyra sighed. "It's like the twins and Stevie…they're so happy with Billy and Mindy. The two dumbest people in the world having children and yet those kids are well-adjusted."

"All kids need is someone who loves them. Whether apart, together…" he trailed off, thinking of Noah. He knew his son was loved, whether he or Erin were together or not. It comforted him. He set his glass down on the porch, leaning in his chair, his head tilting back and hands folding in his lap. "You want kids Tyra?"

She laughed.

Yeah, he didn't think so.

"You want to get married?"

"Not particularly."

"What's your mom think of that?"

"My mother had an affair with Buddy Garrity, she's still occasionally seeing the man, and she wanted me to marry Tim Riggins, Jason. My mother is not the best person to ask on such matters." Tyra leaned forward, her fingers reaching to touch the wheels of his chair, tugging him forward a little. She pointed at him, slurring her words a little. "You know, I kind of had a little crush on you in high school. Before the accident and you got all depressing and sad in your little chair here."

"Thank you Tyra. You're a good friend," he replied dryly, leaning forward and smiling. This was getting weird, he thought, seeing how close they were to each other. He'd never thought about Tyra Collette like that. Maybe once or twice, when Tim talked about her, back when they were in junior high and figuring out things like kissing or what to do when you had sex.

That should have been a clue to him, on how Tim could tell him what went on with Tyra, if he ever really got that personal, but…but there was that time when Tim got so angry after he'd finally gone to him in the locker room before spring practice one day and said that he and Lyla finally went all the way Memorial Day weekend. Tim had slammed his locker door, glared at him, and stormed off. Put a kid in the hospital with a dislocated shoulder by the end of practice.

Tim was jealous. He should have seen it then.

Tyra glanced down at his lips and then back up, whispering. "I probably shouldn't…" she sighed, leaning back a little, smiling. "You know for all that weird creepy little love triangle thing with you and Tim and Lyla and then me and Tim and Lyla…you and I never hooked up."

"You got together with Landry."

"That's right," she whispered. She tossed her hair from her eyes again, closing them briefly. "I'm too drunk to drive."

"I don't think you can be too drunk to drive so much as just…drunk. You shouldn't drive at all."

"I'll just sit here for now," she whispered. She glanced sideways at him. "You want to sit with me?"

Why the hell not? He turned his chair back to sit beside her, reaching down to lift his feet off the footpads, pushing them back so he could stretch them out as best as he could. He leaned back again, listening to the sound of cicadas and the light wind rustling through the trees.

It was a sound you could practically OD on, he thought, closing his eyes and just listening.

"Thanks for listening Jason."

After a moment, he nodded, whispering. "Thanks for listening to me Tyra."

"You guys will be fine." She turned her head towards him, whispering and reaching to pat his hand lightly. "The three of you always come out fine."

I sure hope so, he thought briefly. He closed his eyes, drifting off a little.

Several minutes later, when he lifted them a little, he glanced down. Her hand was still on his wrist and she was fast asleep.

He didn't move it for some reason, but closed his eyes and drifted back off into a buzzed sleep.

It was nice.

Maybe he just wanted something nice, just for a few minutes.


	17. To Build A Home

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews :) There is only one chapter left after this and I might rewrite the Epilogue (or delete it, it depends how people take the last chapter, it could serve as an Epilogue as well). Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 17: To Build A Home**

Lyla woke up the next morning to an empty spot in her bed. She shifted, wiping at her eyes and sitting up. "Tim?" she mumbled, wondering where he went. At some point she'd fallen asleep in Rue's room and felt him carrying her into here. He'd fallen asleep in the chair she had across the room, having briefly seen him tugging her old quilt over his shoulders before she fell back asleep again.

She looked down, still in her jeans and t-shirt from the night before. It wasn't the first time she'd fallen asleep in her clothes and she hated the feeling. It always felt like there was a dirty sock stuffed in her mouth too.

A few minutes later, she'd freshened up, changed her clothes, and tied what little of her hair she could behind her head. After she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she rolled her eyes. "You are 26 soon to be 27," she mumbled, wiping her hand over her mouth, sighing. "Not 16." She'd have to go to the salon or something to get it evened out.

She made her way downstairs, hearing her dad singing to himself, the scent of bacon wafting up the staircase from the kitchen. "Daddy?" she called, shuffling into the kitchen. She frowned at the rather empty living room, pointing. "Where are Rue's things? Where is Rue?"

"Tim was here when I woke up this morning," Buddy said, smiling again. It was still creepy to her when he made those types of comments about her…husband. He pushed a plate of bacon and eggs towards her. "Eat up sweetheart. It's moving day, so Tim said."

Moving day. She closed her eyes, taking a seat on the breakfast barstool. "This doesn't change things Daddy, we're still not…officially back together."

"Sure seems like it."

She shoved her fork into the eggs, mumbling to herself. "Seems like a lot of things."

Her head whipped up at the sound of the frying pan clattering into the sink. "What?" she demanded, Buddy turning and glaring at her, his hand on his hip. Don't you dare start judging me, she warned, lifting an eyebrow. "What?" she repeated.

"Lyla, I have kept my mouth closed on this whole matter for the last…" Buddy shook his head, turning to the stove, taking the remaining pots and pans, tossing them into the sink while he spoke over the clatter. "Last three years. Since you came to me and said you would be marrying Tim. I didn't ask why, even though I suspected. I was disappointed, but you know that already. I didn't say anything when you said you were pregnant."

"So say something Daddy, you obviously want to," she snapped.

"Lyla Garrity you had the world in front of you, I wasn't real fired up about you dating Tim in the first place and I wasn't real fired up when you came back and said you were pregnant by him after all that time. It's not really a father's dream to have their daughter say she got pregnant by her high school boyfriend who happens to be a functional alcoholic and felon, whose only dream in life was to have a house in Texas," Buddy ranted.

He leaned against the counter, glaring at her. "But then you found out about Rue. You found out that your baby girl was going to have to go through a lifetime of pain and I realized that it didn't matter who you were marrying, because there were bigger things in life, as much sadness it brought to me that you would be taking care of someone in a wheelchair for the rest of your life…I didn't want that for you with Jason, I wanted you to live beyond someone else, but this time was different."

How big of you to rise above your disappointment in me, she thought darkly, glaring at her father. "So? What's all that supposed to mean? The other night you told me how proud you were of me. I might be back in Dillon and not New York City and I might be married to a guy who spends his days welding pieces of iron together rather than designing the damn things, as much as I want him to do something like that, and maybe fate really is cruel to give me someone with a bent spine to take care of again. So what Daddy?"

Buddy laughed, throwing his hands in the air. "So Lyla? So I realized that despite all of that baby, I love you and I know that you and Tim are going to be okay. This nonsense of you separated? I'm done with it Lyla. You need to go home to him. You can't be a spoiled little…"

She jerked her finger towards him growling. "Don't you dare say I'm spoiled. Don't you even dare!"

"Fine. I know it's real rich coming from me, the man who cheated on your mother and drove her off to California, but marriage is difficult and…and you and Tim are not me and your mother. You are real and you need to work on this thing between you together and not here."

Buddy held his hands out. "And this house will always be here if you need it, but I'm not letting you stay here forever. It's about time you go home and that's not with me, Lyla."

This was surreal, Lyla thought, holding a glass of orange juice in her fingertips. She stared at her father, who was breathing heavily, all worked up. Her lip quirked upward. "Don't give yourself a heart attack on my account Daddy," she said dryly.

"I'm just looking out for you baby. This also isn't about you. It's about my granddaughter and I'll be damned if her parents give up on her."

Lyla smiled. "You were a crappy father and husband most of the time, but Rue is lucky to have you as her grandfather."

"Thank you baby, I'll take that as a compliment." Buddy smiled, leaning his hands on the counter across from her. "And baby, Tim is a better father than I ever was and he's only been one for three years. As hard as you think it is with him, he is a better husband too."

That was…gigantic coming from her father.

"I know Daddy." Lyla patted his hand, whispering. "I know."

"Good. Now eat your breakfast."

She smiled, finishing up her breakfast and leaving him to do the dishes while she went upstairs to her room, dragging out suitcases and bags, putting away her clothes and what little she'd brought with her six weeks ago.

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she drove down the driveway to the big white house. There was a weathervane at the top she'd found and wanted him to put up. He thought it was dumb, but did so without question when she asked. Her flowers were still in bloom around the porch and there was a little 'Welcome' sign stuck next to the steps leading up to the house. Her garden gnome holding a Panthers flag was even in its same place.

The car came to a stop a moment later behind his truck. She climbed out, grabbing a bag and slinging it over her shoulder, taking another suitcase and rolling it down the walkway to the back door, which she knew would be open.

In the backyard, Tim had Rue in her braces with her arm cuffs, while Jason encouraged her from a few yards away. "Hey Lyla!" he called, waving at her.

She lifted her hands, waving. "Hey Jason. Hey Rue, look at you!"

Tim just smiled. "Hey." He nodded towards the bags. "Need help getting those in the house?" He grinned, long and slow. "Maybe unpacking?"

"Shut up," she warned, but couldn't hide her smile, carrying the bags up into the house. All of Rue's stuff was back in the living room, her medications scattered on the counter. Lyla carried her things up into their room, dropping them in the corner.

Unpacking could come later, she thought, leaving the room, pausing at the dresser near the door. When she was a little girl, she'd sit at her mother's vanity and play with the makeup. She always liked the pictures that were there, a couple of her grandparents when they were young, a photo of her mother and father on their wedding day (she was fairly sure that one got burned during her mother's descent into hippie-town), and then a few of her and her siblings when they were little.

It was so funny, because that's almost exactly what was on her dresser. A couple of Rue as a baby and a toddler, one of her whole family, another of her and her mother during a vacation to Hawaii in college…and then one of her and Tim on their second wedding day, standing on the porch, in front of the waterfall.

The waterfall, she thought, grinning.

She tapped the picture, noting that her dress was doing little in the photo to conceal her stomach, which had invited a couple of questions from people, including her mother, who wouldn't let it go.

They were almost happy, she thought, after they agreed to get married. They weren't…gung-ho in wedding planning and they didn't have a honeymoon, because she was in school. He stayed in Dillon while she worked and studied at UT. She piled on the courses, getting as much as she could finish before the baby came. Even after Rue was born and all the work they had to do with her, all the surgeries, she still continued to study, until she got her Master's.

When Rue came along, that was when they really started to live together, but…that small little ceremony they had downstairs, on the porch…she allowed herself to believe that he was doing it because he really loved her too.

She set the picture back down, returning to the backyard, where Jason was laughing at Rue chasing after Tim on her crutches, giggling and hobbling. It was a game, to get her to use them, she realized. Tim was always very good at getting her to think of everything as a game.

Tim looked up, waiting for Rue to go over to Jason, taking a step from them and up to the house. He stood at the base of the steps, looking up at her. She didn't move, her arms crossed over her chest. He reached forward, taking the corner of her sweater, tugging it towards him.

A few steps later, she was standing over him, her arms crossed, her head lowered. He took her hand and kissed it lightly. Her eyes closed and she leaned forward, her arms going around his shoulders as he touched his forehead to her hand, before letting it fall against her stomach, and his arms going around her waist.

They stood like that for a few minutes, their silent little…forgiveness, she thought. He broke away. "Come here," he whispered, lifting his hands up to her face, bringing her down to him for a kiss.

She returned it lightly, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes, stroking his hair back. "I'm going to stay in the guest room," she breathed. "I think we need to still talk about some things…"

"I'm tired of talking Garrity."

"This isn't going to go away in a weekend," she said.

He nodded, his eyes closing again. "You're staying," he whispered, a wash of relief crossing his face. He smiled, long and slow. "That's all I wanted."

Lyla nodded. She leaned back down, kissing him again, and grinned when he swung her up into his arms and off the porch, spinning in circles a few times before setting her feet on the ground. She let go of him, joining Rue and Jason.

"So you're moving back in, huh," Jason said, smiling knowingly.

"Shut up Jason."

"I'm just saying."

Lyla shook her head, her hands on her hips, finally laughing slightly. "Yes, I'm moving back in. I'll sleep in the guest room."

"I'm in the guest room."

"Then I'll sleep in the guest room when you're gone. When are you going to be leaving?"

"My flight leaves tomorrow morning, but I'll stay tonight." Jason fiddled with his hands. "We need to make plans for another visit. Maybe Noah can come."

Maybe even Erin, Lyla thought, but didn't say it out loud. Something told her Jason wouldn't quite give up on that, the way he was insinuating had to happen. She stopped, frowning at the sight of Rue and Tim looking at her. That wasn't good. "What?" she called, reaching to subconsciously touch her face. "Is something wrong?"

Tim and Rue exchanged another look. "No," Tim said, shrugging, his hands going into his pockets. "We were just talking about taking her to the pond for water therapy."

"Oh, that's a good idea."

"But…"

"It's cold," Rue said.

She frowned, no it wasn't, it was August. "I don't think it's cold."

Jason piped up from beside her. "Might need to check on that."

Lyla glanced down at him. Before she realized what was happening, which she really should have realized, Tim was running towards her. "No!" she screamed, turning to run away, but he was faster, grabbing her around the waist and slinging her over her shoulder. "Put me down! Tim!"

Rue screeched, Jason picking her up and setting her on his lap, wheeling down to the pond, where Tim carted her. "I'm going to bite your ass," she said, trying to sit up, but he just pushed her head back down, patting her butt. "Tim this isn't funny!"

"I think it's hilarious."

"Push her Daddy!" Rue yelled.

Traitor daughter, Lyla thought, yelling and laughing at the same time as Tim chucked her into the pond. She crashed into the water, which was quite warm, pushing her feet in the mud and kicking back to the surface, where the three of them were laughing from the dock. "Oh I don't think so, get in here Riggins!"

"I'm fine right here."

Lyla saw Jason move before Tim did, pushing him off his heels, where he'd been crouching. He yelled, flying forward into the water, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her down beneath the surface again.

They both came back up, his arms around her, laughing. "Isn't this fun?" he asked, sputtering and laughing, wiping his hair from his eyes.

"No," she lied, smiling at him. She looked up at Rue, who was giggling like a little maniac, sitting on the dock. In the last six weeks, she hadn't seen her daughter look this happy.

You are your father's daughter, she thought, turning to look up at the house and then back out at the land. It did something to the both of them.

"You're back," Tim whispered, his lips over her ear.

She nodded, reaching one hand up to the dock to lift herself out, the other still around his neck. "Yes," she replied, very serious.

I'm back.


	18. I'll Fix It For Us

**A/N:** This is an added chapter- I'm going to even it out to a total of 20 chapters. This fic has been fun to write, but kind of draining. Dunno if it's possible to give it a sequel, maybe at the 20-year reunion? Thank you for the reviews and enjoy! :)

* * *

**Chapter 18: I'll Fix It For Us**

I seriously need to think about disciplining my kid, Tim thought; tossing his wet, dirty clothes into the washer. Otherwise this is not going to be the last time I'll be pushed into the pond.

He left his clothes in the washer, walking up the stairs wearing a towel, intent on just drying off; he'd shower later, preferably with Garrity.

He had to unpack Rue's things; that morning he'd woken up with a bad back and a crick in his neck from sleeping in the small chair in Lyla's room. He would have crawled into bed with her, but he wasn't sure what she wanted. Plus, he wasn't sure they'd stay…clothed if that was the case and he wasn't sure if she was ready for that.

Although now he suspected she might be. For all her talk about how they still needed to talk and stuff, he knew that her coming back here was the biggest sign that things would be okay. More than okay.

He went into their room, closing the door behind him. There were several bags piled in a corner, on the window seat and around Lyla's makeup table. He bypassed them for the closet, pulling out a pair of jeans and t-shirt, quickly changing and running the towel over his hair to dry it off.

Tim tossed the towel into the hamper, walking towards the bags. He waited a second. He should leave them alone. Lyla was very particular about where her things went. "Screw it," he mumbled. He didn't want her getting fancy ideas and second-guessing if she saw them all piled in a corner.

He grabbed one, opening it up and dumping the clothes into the dresser, doing that with the others. Once he had all her makeup scattered on the table and her shoes in the closet, he was satisfied.

The room was sufficiently messy.

"What are you doing?"

He looked up at Lyla's face, standing in the doorway, sopping wet. "Where's Jason?" he asked.

"Rue is showing him how she can walk with her walker…what are you doing?"

"Unpacking."

"Okay." Lyla sighed, smiling slightly, her arms crossing her chest. She gestured her elbow towards the clothes sticking out of the drawer. "That's not really unpacking."

"I know." He cocked his head, smiling a little. That shower was looking like a good idea right about now. He nodded towards the bathroom. "You should probably clean up."

He saw her eyes light up a little, her lips quickly pursing. You can't hide from me, he thought to say, seeing the light flush on her cheeks. I know what you're thinking. He smiled, long and slow. "You wanna'?"

The smile immediately fell. She arched an eyebrow. Uh-oh. "You wanna'?" she repeated, exaggerating how he asked.

He rolled his eyes, turning away. "Well now I don't!"

"You can't just sweep me off my feet? You can't say, Lyla, I think we're ready to make love again, it's been about three months."

Damn, it really had been that long, hadn't it?

"You're the one that just got back."

"You're seriously going to do this?"

Do what!? See? This was why they got so frustrated with each other. Screw it. He took two steps towards her and grabbed her, hauling her up and over to the bed. Lyla giggled, falling backwards and fighting with his belt while he pulled off her wet t-shirt.

He hissed, laughing a little at how damn cold she was from the water. "You really ready for this?" he asked, kissing her hard, their hands tangling together in the sheets.

She nodded quickly, her hand breaking free to slip upwards to the back of his neck, holding him against her. "Yes," she mumbled, breaking the kiss to allow him access to her neck. "Mmmm," she murmured, arching against him.

This seemed too good to be true, Tim thought, rolling sideways as she crawled on top of him, his hands sliding up her back.

"Hey Tim…Lyla…whoa!."

"Ah!" Lyla yelped, flying off the bed when he hurled her off of him, jumping up into a seated position.

Jason sat in the doorway, laughing. "Ah…I think you should have closed your door a little better. Um, sorry to interrupt." His eyes twinkled, pushing himself away. "Carry on."

"Thanks a lot Six!" he yelled at Jason's departing back. Jason just waved his hand, as if to say no problem. He hit his head back against the bed, his feet remaining on the floor. Lyla crawled back over him, straddling his hips, kissing him again.

She broke away, pushing her hands up from his chest, smiling. "We're not doing this. Mood is broken. I'm going to go get Rue some lunch."

"Yeah," he sighed, waiting. He sat up, watching her get dressed. It seemed normal. Maybe it was good they didn't rush into this. He pursed his lips, rolling over to his nightstand and opening up the drawer.

There was a ton of assorted, random crap, but he knew what he was looking for, sitting in a black ring box. He pulled it out, flicking up the lid, staring at the state ring. He ignored it, lifting it out from the velvet padding; he hadn't worn it since he got the damn thing ten years ago. Not even to the banquet last night.

He removed the gold band; twirling it around in his fingers for a moment, before slipping it back onto his left hand. He flexed his fingers, smiling slightly. It didn't feel weird. Not like it had when he first put it on.

Coach told him not to lose it, teasing him the very day that he and Lyla exchanged the relatively cheap gold bands. He'd taken hers, after they found out about Rue, and once he sobered up, went and got it set with diamonds. An engagement ring and a wedding ring in one.

He'd told Coach that he figured Lyla would kill him if he ever lost it. Coach said that was a sure thing, that it wasn't just a piece of jewelry, it was probably the only piece of jewelry that stood for something far greater.

He crawled off the bed, glancing over his shoulder; Lyla was already gone, probably to go pretend like nothing was wrong. He went to the window, peering out at the backyard, where Jason was with Rue, the two of them in their wheelchairs near her swing. She was pointing at it to him, probably talking about it.

It would be good for Rue to have someone else in her life who was in a wheelchair, to see that it wasn't the end of the world. Right now she knew it was her life, she didn't question. She could use the walker or the crutches, but he knew that she was far more comfortable in the chair. One day she'd be old enough to make her decision.

And he knew kids were cruel. Look at her mother, what happened in high school when the good popular girl fell off the pedestal. Tim didn't want his daughter to have to endure the pain that Lyla went through. Or Jason, when he showed up in the chair. With everyone staring and watching and whispering.

Jason didn't need to be here, but he was. Ten years later, he was back in the town that worshipped him and ultimately abandoned him. He needed his friends and look at the two of us.

Tim frowned slightly, watching Lyla go out to join them. She laughed, smiling about something Rue just told her. He saw the sunlight catch on her left hand. The ring was back. Good to know.

Jason.

That was the difference, wasn't it? Jason came back. Even for four days, his presence had done something with them both. He wanted them to help him and in the end, he helped them.

"Like hell," Tim mumbled, pushing away from the window. He shoved his feet into flip flops, walking down the stairs and spun around the doorway to the right of the staircase into his 'study.' It was more Lyla's study, but he kept some of his things in there.

He pushed study guides for the contractor test out of his way, lifting up paystubs, bills, and various invoices from the medical supply store where they got Rue's equipment. Where was it?

In his phone he had Jason's office number and his cell phone, but not the home number. Lyla…she probably had it. He went to her desk, which was perfectly proportioned. He opened up her computer, typing in her password, which was Rue's birthday, and brought up her contacts list.

He scrolled through, scribbling down the house number and dropped the computer lid back down, after noting the background was of him and Rue wearing matching 33 jerseys at last year's homecoming game, the two of them in sunglasses with serious faces.

It wasn't all bad, he idly thought, grabbing the house phone and dialing the number for the house in suburban New Jersey. He heard it ring a few times, until a breathless little voice answered.

"This is the Street residence, Noah speaking!"

Tim smiled; how old was that kid? Eight? He seemed like 20. "What's up Noah, it's Tim, from Texas."

"Uncle Tim! Daddy's in Texas right now."

"I know, he's staying at my house, but I wanted to talk to your mom, is she around?"

"Yes, she's outside. Let me get her. Hold on please."

What a polite kid, but Tim figured Jason wouldn't allow a kid who wasn't polite. He wondered what side Rue was going to get. His abruptness or Lyla's sweetness. Right now she had a very difficult time using the world 'please.'

He waited a second, hearing muffled movement and discussion, until the phone lifted again. "Hello?" Erin asked, her voice quiet. "Tim?"

He never really met Erin at all. Just seemed like she was there. Jason kept that hookup pretty secret and didn't really give a lot of details or bring her around even after the baby was born. Even after he moved to New York, Tim had only met her a couple times, when Jason brought her and Noah back to Dillon to visit his parents.

So this was weird, but…he felt that it had to be done.

For Six.

He cleared his throat, walking to the window in the back of the living room, looking out beyond the porch to the backyard at Jason and Rue. He didn't know where Lyla was. "Yeah, it's Tim, um…look I know this is weird, but Jason's been here…"

"Yes, I know."

"Okay. You know that my wife and I haven't been talking?"

Erin cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable. "Um, Tim, look…we really don't know each other, I don't know if this is an appropriate…"

I don't care, he thought, interrupting her. "Look, my wife and I haven't been talking for six weeks. For three years, basically and…and you know that Jason used to date her, right?"

The other woman's voice immediately grew cool. "What are you trying to tell me?"

Oh damn, he wasn't doing this right at all. "Ah, no, no, not that," he quickly said, shaking his head, beginning to pace around the living room, picking things up and walking around. He shoved a pair of Rue's pink sunglasses onto his nose, fiddling with them for a second before setting them on the mantle, where he grabbed one of her stress balls, tossing it in the air with one hand. "No, I'm just saying that…Jason has been my friend for a long time and…"

"Yes Tim, I know he's your friend. He was helping you more than he was staying in New York."

"Actually, no, he wasn't," he said. He didn't know why she thought that, but it wasn't true. Jason and him had only started talking a little bit more since Rue. That was it. He stopped in the center of the living room. Best to just say it. "Look um, I know the both of you have had problems, but…but Jason came here to get help from me and from my wife, Lyla, and he didn't really get it because he…he helped the two of us. You know…"

He laughed a little. "You know Erin you have a really great guy in Street. I'm just saying that…that I don't know what really went on with you both, but he's a good guy. The best. I'm just…just trying to help out my best friend by letting you know he loves you. He said you guys fell out of love but I don't believe him. I think he's just letting you have what you want, even if he doesn't agree with it."

Which makes him a really good guy, he thought, hearing her quiet breathing. He continued, wondering when she'd just hang up the phone on him. "So I just thought you should know that. When he comes home tomorrow, just…hear him out with what he has to say to you."

On the other end, Erin cleared her throat again. Her voice was slightly thick, cracking. "Thank you Tim. I will…consider it. Have a good rest of your weekend, thank you." She hung up before he could say anything else.

Did what I could, he thought, and set the phone down on the coffee table. Tim picked up one of Rue's little hats, dropping it on his head and looking over his shoulder. "How long you been standing there?"

"Long enough. Why are you wearing that?"

"It was there." Tim walked over, dropping the hat onto Lyla's head, tugging down the little chin strings, his nose brushing against hers. "Six doesn't want to leave his wife. Someone had to tell her."

She smiled, kissing him lightly. "You're a good friend."

"No I'm not." He walked by her, going outside with the hat and sunglasses, kneeling at Rue in her chair. "Come on kid, I'm not going to have you as red as a strawberry."

"No, I don't want to put it on," Rue protested, shoving the sunglasses back up at him.

He pushed them onto his nose, holding his arms out. "Don't I look awesome?"

Rue giggled, holding her fingers up, squeezing her fingers. "Mine!"

Now she wanted them, good. Tim put the hat on her head, along with the sunglasses. He smiled down at her. "Looking good."

"Don't I look good too?" Jason asked, leaning forward, so Rue could take off his sunglasses. She studied them for a moment ebfore putting them back on, giggling.

"Yes!"

Jason spun his chair around on the wheels, his feet lifting in the air. "One of these days I'll teach you how to do that."

"I don't think so."

"I think so."

Rue giggled, her hands on her wheels. "Can I have?" she asked, pointing to Jason's fingerless gloves.

Tim smiled, lowering his lips down to her nose, kissing. "Those aren't yours." He tapped the diamond dolphin pendant she was still wearing, the one that Smash gave her. "Just like that wasn't either, but Smash gave it to you anyway."

The little girl smiled at him, her eyes crinkling the way Lyla's did when she grinned so wide that her cheeks kind of lifted up. "Cause' I'm cute!"

"Oh, because you're cute? Well who told you that?"

"You!" Rue yelped, leaning forward and smacking his cheeks, kissing him on the nose. "I love you Daddy."

"And I love you, look, Jason's got something."

Jason had taken off his gloves, rolling the cuffs a little and put them onto Rue's small hands. They dwarfed her completely, but her eyes lit up, flexing her fingers and setting them on the wheels of her chair, looking up at him, almost like she was asking permission.

He moved her wheelchair over to the walkway leading back to the house. "Go show Mommy your gloves."

Lyla stepped out onto the porch. "Come on Rue, I got your lunch ready."

"What about us?" Tim yelled, gesturing to him and Jason.

Jason held his hands around his mouth, his voice echoing as he shouted back to her. "We want sandwiches too!"

"Peanut butter?" Tim asked. Jason nodded. "Peanut butter sandwiches!"

"With the crusts cut off!" Jason shouted, laughing and holding his hand to his stomach. He looked up, grinning. "What else could we get?"

"And cookies!"

"Chocolate chip!"

"And beer!"

"Of course, beer."

Lyla waited until Rue was in the house before she made a rude finger gesture, which sent the both of them into a fit of giggles. Tim leaned down, bumping his fist to Jason's, which was already waiting for him. "That was fun," Jason laughed. He smiled up at him, shrugging. "So…how are we going to spend our last night together in Dillon?"

Tim cocked his head, glancing up at the house, seeing Lyla bringing Rue's lunch out onto the porch, Rue following after. He glanced down at Jason again.

There was one thing they hadn't done yet.

It seemed right to do it their last night together.

"I got some ideas," he said, walking back up to the house. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing Jason's frown. Damn, he really hoped that Erin would…would let Jason back in. It wasn't really fair that someone like him…the kid who lost everything because of one bad second in his life, should have to lose someone he'd come to love through another…rather unexpected moment in his life.

"Ideas, Riggins? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I got some ideas."

"That never ends well."

He shrugged, grinning as Jason knocked his wheelchair into the back of his kenes, sending him stumbling forward. He laughed, turning and walking backwards up to the house, his arms out to the side. "Have I ever let you down?"

"Yes. All the damn time."

"Well, that's true, but this time it'll be fine."

"You know when you say things are fine Tim, I get scared."

Tim smiled, but said nothing, going up onto the porch, with Jason following him. He had plans, he thought, glancing out to the pond and the firepit with the few chairs set out around it.

He reached into the fridge, removing a bottle of beer for Jason and one for himself, cracking the cap and taking a long sip.

Things would be okay, he was sure of it. He was happy again.

And he never really had a lot of times in his life when he could honestly say he was happy.

"Now I am," he whispered to himself, his wedding ring clinking on the amber bottle in his palms.

"What'd you say?" Jason asked, turning slightly from where he was headed back out onto the porch.

He shook his head slightly. "Nothing. Come on, let's go drive Garrity crazy."

Jason just rolled his eyes.

Tim smiled.


	19. Good Friends Living Large in Texas

**A/N:**Soo, this is the last regular chapter to the story; there is an Epilogue, that will go up tomorrow. Thanks to all who have reviewed and I hope that you have enjoyed it :) Thank you.

* * *

**Chapter 19: Good Friends Living Large in Texas**

You can see the stars in Texas, Jason thought, looking up at the dark sky, the shining white-hot balls of fire scattered across it. He told Noah that stars were just like pinpricks in a dark sheet, with light shining behind them. When Erin's father died, they changed it to how stars were people in Heaven, looking down on them.

He just liked how you could see them here.

He closed his eyes, savoring the cool night air on his face, the smell of the fire wafting up with the smoke. They'd set it up down near the dock, in an already established firepit, with chairs around it. It was right before the slope leading down and away from the house to the thicket of trees, before Tim's property line ended.

As much as this place was…was a relief, a break from reality, Jason missed New York. He wanted to see his son and he wanted to see Erin again. To start whatever he had to do to get her back. It worked once before.

And he'd just spent the last four days coming to terms with the fact that you could really love someone, but that didn't mean it was easy.

He reached for the cooler, flipping the lid up and removing a bottle of beer, cracking it on the side and taking a sip. "Since when could you move your right hand like that?" Tim asked, stretched back in a lawn chair that was almost flat on the ground, looking almost exactly like he had in high school, a shirt that was barely buttoned, flip-flops, and because it was the evening and warm enough, cargo shorts.

"Since I had those surgeries a few years ago," Jason answered. He smiled, leaning back in his chair. "You knew about them."

"I did?"

My best friend, he thought, shaking his head. A very long time ago he'd come to terms with the fact that Tim Riggins was incredibly devoted and loyal, but he was also incredibly forgetful. Some people would think it meant he was selfish, but Jason just knew it was because his mind was often preoccupied with other things.

He nodded. "Yeah, those stem cell surgeries…I know I'm never going to walk again, but…yeah, I got my hand back and I can feel…weight, I guess you could call it."

"Weight?"

"When Rue was sitting on my knees? I could feel her. But if you stuck my foot in the fire I can't feel it."

Tim glanced down at his foot and then at the fire.

"Don't even think about it."

"Just wondering." He smiled around his beer bottle, holding it loosely in his fingertips. "Gonna' miss you Street."

I'm going to miss you too. "You'll have to come visit New York."

"Yeah." He shrugged a little, whispering, lifting the bottle back to his lips. "Money and all that…"

Yeah. In other words, don't get your hopes up, but Jason didn't expect him to say yes. It was more likely he'd see Lyla and Rue up in New York, but Tim didn't venture beyond his comfort zone, which wasn't very far out of Dillon.

He looked up when Lyla walked towards them. If you looked at photos of him and Tim from a decade ago, you could at least see some similarities. To him though, if you compared the woman walking towards them with the girl in the 2006 Dillon Panthers cheerleading squad photo, you'd find her unrecognizable.

The crazy hair she'd done herself was slightly tamer, pulled back to her neck, strands framing her face. She wore an oversize flannel shirt, which had to be Tim's, over a pair of low-riding jeans, her figure still the same, despite having a kid. Her nails were painted black and she just had a look that wasn't that sweet perfect good girl from sophomore year.

"Have a seat Garrity."

There was another lawn chair next to Tim's, but Lyla ignored it, slowly lowering herself back against Tim's chest; his arm looped around her shoulders, her head settling against his neck. She stretched her feet out in front of her, setting a small baby monitor in the dirt beside her before reaching back and taking the bottle of beer from him, taking a long pull from it.

She smiled in his direction, whispering. "You'll have to come out for Christmas, Jason. The house looks really pretty at Christmas."

"I'll think about it," he answered. He waved his fingers between the two of them. "Four days ago you guys weren't even speaking. I'm taking credit for this."

Lyla laughed. "What?"

"Oh yeah, without me, you guys would still be stuck. This is all me."

"I don't think so," she giggled, looking back up at Tim. "Come on, we're still not officially…"

"Oh can it," Tim said, planting a hard kiss on her lips, his fingers tilting her chin back. "Admit it Garrity, you can't live without me."

"Shut up," she giggled, but said nothing, glancing back at him. She mouthed 'thank you' while Tim took her beer and continued to drink it.

Jason nodded, mouthing back 'you're welcome.' He glanced back at the house. It was…it was like a Goldilocks house, he thought. Not too big and not too small. Just right. It was fashioned after an old farmhouse, with dormer windows here and there and gables. It had taken Tim a few years to finish, but he'd done it.

When he saw it for the first time, he almost wanted to cry, because it was what they'd talked about…ten years ago, this very weekend, he thought, glancing towards the couple sitting together on the other side of the fire, looking hopelessly in love, despite all the pain and suffering they'd gone through.

The pain and suffering they'd probably still go through, because while they were smiling happily now, Jason knew that four days was not long enough for them to have all their problems solved, but at least they were close.

He cleared his throat, speaking over the crackling fire. "Remember when we talked about this Timmy?"

"About what?" Tim mumbled, half-asleep in the chair, Lyla's fingers stroking along his hand.

"About us. The one percent of every paycheck…the hunting ranch you'd keep stocked with ladies for us," he laughed.

Lyla giggled, reaching to squeeze Tim's hand. In the firelight, Jason could see her wedding ring sparkling. It matched his, which he could see beneath hers, their fingers intertwining.

"I remember that." She closed her eyes, sighing blissfully. "That was the night before the accident. You and I were…just like this almost." She opened her eyes, meeting his across the fire. "It's so funny how so much can change because of one little moment."

"Yeah, believe me, I know," he whispered. He smiled down at his beer. A thought crossed his mind. It wasn't worth thinking about, but…sitting like this, almost a complete mirror of a decade ago…

He leaned back a little in his chair, looking up at the sky, his voice wistful. "What if I hadn't gotten in my accident? You know? Think we'd still have that hunting ranch and everything?"

Tim rested his head against Lyla's, squeezing her a little tighter, like the idea of thinking of an alternate future meant she'd disappear from him. "Of course Six, but…if we did…you wouldn't have the little guy in New York."

Noah wouldn't exist, that was true. He closed his eyes, thinking of the little girl sleeping up at the house. "And you guys wouldn't have Rue."

"We might be married," Lyla piped up. "And Tim would be…well he'd be keeping all those ladies here for a reason," she laughed. Her face fell a little, more accepting. "Or maybe we wouldn't be together. Maybe…maybe Tim and I would have gotten together at some point for a different reason…or you got hurt somewhere else along the way, at Notre Dame or pro or…it does no good looking to think 'what if'."

"Because," she drawled, reaching into the cooler for a bottle of beer, cracking it and handing it to Tim, who took a sip before giving it to her. She tilted the beer in his direction. "Because you did break your neck and we didn't get married and you had Noah and Tim and I are…whatever we are…and we have Rue. As hard as she is, I'd never give her up."

Jason smiled, finishing off his bottle of beer. "You guys would have gotten together, I know it."

Tim closed his eyes. "Six."

"No, it's true. I realized it, when you guys got married, when you told me, I was…shocked, but…" It was hard to put in words. They were his best friends. "I realized that…Tim you were only ever…nice I guess is the word, around Lyla. You loved her. Just admit it," he laughed.

Lyla tilted her head back. "You loved me? How long?"

Tim ran his tongue over his teeth, glaring at him, his eyes darkened by the shadows from the fire. "Six, I didn't…"

"Tim it was ten years ago," he whispered. He shrugged. "I had a baby with another woman a year and a half after everything. We've all moved on."

"How long have you loved me?" Lyla repeated, her hands tightening around his.

He shrugged, sheepish. "Since elementary school."

"You've loved me since my hair was in pigtails?" She smacked his shoulder, turning and laughing loud, like bells. "Why didn't you ever say anything? Not even in high school!"

"You were Lyla Garrity and we were five years old. It didn't matter. Then I had you in high school, it still didn't matter how much I've loved you."

She brushed her nose over his, reaching her hand back to smooth over his face. "You're an idiot," she whispered, her face positively serene.

Across the fire, Jason watched them, smiling when Lyla slowly removed herself from Tim's arms, walking around the fire to sit lightly on his knees, her arms going around his neck, dropping a kiss to his lips.

Most people would find it strange, that she'd do something like that in front of her almost-estranged husband, but most people didn't know their history. He returned the kiss, light and sweet, his eyes fluttering open when she pulled away. Tim was just watching them from across the fire, smiling slightly.

Lyla ran her fingers over his cheek. "You do need to visit some more Jason. We can't wait another ten years to do this."

He let her fingers drift over his, holding his arm up as she twirled beneath it, smiling, the large flannel shirt she wore drifting around her hips as she danced, holding a bottle of beer in her fingertips, the smoke wafting up around her.

Another memory sparked in his mind. Mexico. The three of them, getting through anything, he thought idly, sipping his beer and watching her dance away from him, before making her away back to Tim, settling back in his lap and giving him another kiss.

You are Jason Street and I am Lyla Garrity, she said a long time ago. He sighed, finishing his beer, setting the bottle down and reaching for another. And we can get through anything.

They had, just not together, and now he wondered about that long ago conversation. "Ten years," he whispered, his beer cool in his hands, a drop of condensation falling to the dirt. "What'd you say Tim? Good friends living large in Texas?" He held his beer up, both of them holding up theirs. "Texas forever."

"Texas forever," Lyla whispered, clinking her beer to Tim's.

Tim just smiled, turning his head to look out at the land. He didn't say anything, but clinked his beer to Lyla's, his eyes lifting back up to meet his over the fire.

They made good on it, Jason thought, silently tilting his beer towards his best friend.

The three of them, they did rise up, together.

Even if it was a decade later.


	20. Epilogue: Texas Forever

**A/N: **Thanks for all the reviews on this story! Plans for my new story are still up in the air, I have one that I've been working on, but I'm not thrilled with the results thus far (and it's Tim/Lyla; Lyla/OC anyways). I hope people enjoy the Epilogue, I tried to sum everything up and keep it a tad 'happy' given that this story was rather angsty. Enjoy! :)

* * *

**Epilogue: Texas Forever**

_Two Years Later _

"Mommy what's this?"

Lyla picked up a photograph Rue handed her, smiling at the image of Tim sitting in the back of the pickup truck, with Jason on the other side. She pointed. "That's Uncle Jason, remember? And that's Daddy."

The little girl, now five, did not look convinced. "That's not Daddy."

"Yes it is, see? Look…" Lyla picked up a photograph from the table beside the couch; from the 'wedding' they'd had earlier that year of her and Tim once again. His hair was a little longer than it was at the moment, but definitely not as long as the photograph from what was probably their freshman year of high school. He also didn't have the beard that; try as she might, he barely shaved anymore.

Rue gave her an unconvinced look. "Uncle Jason has no chair."

"Does not have a chair," Lyla said, correcting her grammar. She smiled, her arm around Rue's shoulders. "Once upon a time ago, Uncle Jason could walk, he didn't have a chair."

"Oh," Rue said, frowning slightly. She picked up another picture, smiling and pointing. "Mommy you are a cheerleader!"

"I was a cheerleader," she laughed, kissing Rue's nose, taking the picture of her in the Dillon cheerleading outfit, pointing to it. "Look how young Mommy was! In fact…" She leaned over, plucking a photo from a box of her as a baby, in the same cheerleader outfit. "Look at that! I was younger than you here."

Her daughter giggled, leaning against her, holding the picture. They continued to sort through some of the photographs, with Rue taking another one of her, Tim, and Jason, pointing to it. "Daddy," she said.

"Good girl, who else is in that picture?"

"Uncle Jason…um…that's Uncle Billy…" Rue shifted, continuing to point to people in the photograph taken a couple years ago at Christmastime, after the 'Great Reconciliation' as Billy called it. "Aunt Mindy…that's Aunt Tyra and Aunt Julie and Uncle Matt and Henry…he's mean! He tried to steal my chair."

"Henry Saracen was three, you did silly things when you were three too, who else is in the picture?"

"Mommy, Grandpa, and that's Uncle Coach and Aunt Tami!" Rue exclaimed, proud that she named most of the people in the photo, but she forgot to name all her cousins, a tad bored at the game of naming people. She said no more, plucking out another picture, this one of Jason and Tim, sitting down by the lake in high school, looking over their shoulders. "This one Mommy."

"That one? Okay." Lyla tacked the photo in the small little triangles in the scrapbook. They were sitting on the floor of the living room, going through boxes of photographs and little mementos she'd acquired over the years for a scrapbook she planned to give Jason for his 30th birthday. They were having a party, since he'd be back in Dillon, this time bringing Noah and Erin.

She wanted to highlight their times together from high school, but also made sure that she was including photos of him in the wheelchair. There were even a couple Erin had given her that she'd found in the house, fully on board with the idea of a scrapbook.

Call it tacky or cheap, but Lyla didn't care. She did this sort of thing all the time in school; it kind of came naturally to her.

"Ooh," she exclaimed, her hands going to either side of her stomach at the sudden punch to her gut. Her eyes lit up at Rue's wide-eyed look, her daughter's little mouth forming a perfect 'o' of surprise. She grinned, giggling. "You want to feel? He's really kicking."

Rue placed her hand on the top of her stomach, giggling, bubbly and happy. "He's running!"

"Yeah, definitely feels like it, huh?" Holy crap, she was right, and he was running all across her bladder. She just smiled, watching the emotions on Rue's face. There was constantly surprise at the notion of a baby inside of Mommy's tummy, but Rue tended to 'protect' her, sometimes following her around to make sure that the baby was going to be okay.

It briefly made Lyla wonder in the beginning if Rue understood that she was different from everyone else, that she couldn't walk without help, but that other babies were born and they were fine. She was intelligent, sure, but could she put all that together and worry for the baby, to make sure he could walk? Lyla didn't know if her brain was capable of that complex deduction.

Tim insisted it was possible.

The front door opened and closed, Tim yelling. "Rue! Where are youuuu?" he sang.

"Daddy! The baby is running!" Rue yelled.

Tim emerged in the doorway, mimicking great surprise. He set down the messenger bag he carried with him everywhere now, usually overflowing with various folded charts and plans for construction projects. He set the white construction helmet dangling from his fingertips onto a table in the hallway. "What? He's running? Go catch him."

Lyla fought to get up, but her eight months pregnant stomach was kind of a hindrance. She grunted when Tim grabbed her under the arms, hauling her up like some damn piece of cargo. "I'm fine," she protested.

"Didn't look like it Garrity. How's my baby?" he asked, kissing her belly.

"Your baby is kicking me in the bladder, check on your other baby, or she'll…"

"Ow!"

Rue looked up, smiling from her wheelchair, where she'd knocked right into Tim's knee. Too late, Lyla thought, chuckling. She was going to warn him after all. Maybe.

The little girl held her arms up so he could pick her up. "Did you bring me something from Austin?"

"I brought you the joy of my presence, come here." Tim swung Rue out of her chair into his arms, the braces of her legs knocking into him, but he didn't say anything, carrying her to the front door. "No, I didn't bring you a toy or anything; however, I did bring you something. I think you're gonna' like it."

Lyla followed after him, slightly curious herself. He'd been in Austin all day with Tyra. Occasionally he still spoke with her for 'therapy', but those visits were few and far between over the years, usually occurring after a particularly bad fight; which was also few and far between. This visit though had been to check on her new house, which she'd had him build, as well as to meet her boyfriend, some fancy-pants doctor who specialized in spinal injuries.

Tyra had met him at an event that Rue's doctor had encouraged them to attend a couple months ago, so Rue could interact with children who had the same spinal defect she did and for them to meet parents of children born with spinal defects or who suffered spinal injuries early in life. Tyra had tagged along, met Dr. Aiden Kennedy and that was that.

They were quite happy for her, but Tim still had to sign off on his approval, he said.

She glanced over her shoulder at the mess in the living room, photos all over the place. She'd have to clean that up. Or maybe she could get Tim to just move it to the dining room. Yeah, she'd do that.

It was early evening and she still hadn't changed out of her work outfit of dark blue scrub pants and the black t-shirt of Tim's she'd confiscated with a blue '33' in the upper left corner, beneath the shoulder. It had shrunk anyway and barely fit him, but it was perfect since none of her other work clothes fit and the maternity scrubs made her look like a damn whale.

She covered her stomach with her hands, watching Tim make a big game of surprising Rue, who was vibrating with excitement in his arms. He counted down, his hand on the doorknob. "Just open it!" she snapped.

"Tada!" Tim exclaimed, swinging the door open.

Rue screamed, clapping her hands and dropping to the floor, launching herself into a laughing Jason's lap. "Uncle Jason!" she yelled.

"Jason!"

Tim wrapped his arm around her waist, grinning down at her. "Picked him up at the airport on my way home, it's why I'm late, so don't get mad." He dropped a kiss to her lips, smiling. "You still mad?"

She lifted an eyebrow, cupping his cheek, giving him another kiss. "I'm not mad, the baby makes me mad."

"The baby makes you do a lot of things."

"What can I say," she teased, letting go over him to lean down as best as she could given her beach-ball stomach, giving Jason a chaste kiss on the lips and a big hug. She patted his shoulder, pulling back up. "How are you? Where are Noah and Erin?"

"They're at my parents' house, but I figured I'd come see my favorite niece," Jason said, looking down at Rue, who was leaning back against Tim, her hands held in his. He lifted his eyebrows. "Where's your chair?"

"In there," Rue said, pointing. She giggled, stomping her feet up and down. "I can walk by myself. Sometimes."

"Yes, but not now," Tim said, slightly nervous. He didn't like when she walked on her own, because the couple times she'd tried, she'd fallen and couldn't push herself back up. He was terrified she'd try it with no one around and get hurt.

Lyla knew that Rue wouldn't quit, just because Tim told her not to do something. She was too much of a Riggins. It was that whole perseverance above all else quality. She followed Jason back into the kitchen, with Tim and Rue bringing up the rear. "So how is the adoption process coming? I saw the notice that Erin sent out, about the baby being a girl, congratulations!"

Jason smiled, nodding, glancing into the living room at all the photos. "Scrapbooking, Lyla?"

"Yes, don't judge," she giggled. She lifted her eyebrow, still waiting on his response. "So? The baby?"

"Yes, the baby is a girl. The birth mother found out and let us know. She's due in three months, so my daughter will be a couple months younger than your son." Jason frowned slightly. "And it is a boy, correct?"

Tim carried Rue into the room, holding her on his shoulders. Rue lifted her hand up to touch the high kitchen ceiling from her perch. "No, we don't know, but Garrity insists. So does Rue, right Rue?"

"It's a brother," Rue concluded.

While the three of them went out onto the porch to talk about Jason's time in New York and their plans for his birthday celebration, she went into the living room, sweeping up photos, carrying the box of the ones she still wanted to place into the book on the dining room table.

She returned outside, taking a seat beside Jason, leaning against his shoulder. "How's New York?"

"Pretty good, like usual." He kissed her temple, looking out at Tim and Rue, who were getting one of the footballs out to play. He nodded towards them. "We're going to play quad football, which we just made up, if that makes any sense."

"Sure," she teased, giggling. "Don't give Rue any ideas though about quad sports, I do not want her playing quad rugby one day."

"She'd be good at it, she's got that aggression, plus she loves to hit Tim in the back of the knees with her chair."

"Yeah, well now he just finds it funny so she keeps doing it to get a rise out of him."

Jason nodded, not saying anything, his hands folded in his lap. He nodded towards Tim, who was laughing with Rue. "He's really happy Lyla."

I know, she thought, the corner of her lip curved upwards. "What about me?" she whispered, just to try to make light of the situation. It didn't work, because the look Jason gave her was pure seriousness. Her smile faltered, before slowly returning to her lips. "Yeah. I know. We're all very happy."

"When did he quit drinking?"

"He has one now and then, it just depends on the occasion, but…" Truth be told, she couldn't remember. He'd probably have a few this weekend, because of the party, but… She smiled. "He doesn't need to drink Jason. Just like you don't need to work yourself to death and I don't need to fix other people anymore. We've grown up. Even from two years ago, during that whole…our lives are falling apart and we're only 26-years old fiasco."

He chuckled, his hands going to the wheels of his chair. "Yeah. Seems like a million years ago."

"It was." She rested her hand on her stomach, closing her eyes and wondering. If they had gotten a divorce, Rue probably wouldn't be in the great place she was now. The baby wouldn't be here. Tim wouldn't be working for a pretty good company. He had no ambitions or plans to ever open his own business, which she'd come to terms with, even though she knew he'd be amazing and he'd work hard and would succeed, but…she didn't push him to do something he wasn't comfortable with and he…he could pay the bills and was home in time for dinner. That's what mattered.

There was more to life than just this little slice of Texas, which he knew, and in a way, that's all she ever wanted for him to know. Just like how he let her go, to let her find out there was more to life than being taken care of by a guy, or wanted by one. She'd returned, on accident, yes, but she'd stayed.

She cleared her throat. "I feel like I'm 100, not 28."

"And I feel like I'm 100, not 30."

"Thirty," she teased, glancing towards him, seeing his eyeroll. She laughed. "You're thirty! You're so old!"

"Shut up. I am not."

"Yes, you are."

"You give any thought to that medical stuff?"

My, what a change of subject, she thought, lifting her eyebrow. She made a sound of annoyance, drawing from the back of her throat. Jason shrugged. "Just curious, the last time I was out here, you had medical school stuff. You thinking about going back?"

Going back to what? She shook her head, looking out at Tim and Rue. Medical school would be too much. It wasn't something she wanted in school…even if she had plans, Rue forced her to change them. "No," she whispered. She smiled. "Tim Riggins passed his contractor test with flying colors, he's actually really good at what he does, and he's the regional manager for that firm he got the job with…I'm perfectly content to work at the hospital and freelance my time at the high school as a trainer. No medical school."

Jason lifted his eyebrow, not fully convinced. She wasn't sure what it would take. "I'm not going back to school, Jason. If anyone in this family is going to college, it's Tim. Did I tell you that he's taking classes again? With what he takes at Dillon Tech and the credits from the prison degree program, he can transfer to the online program Texas Tech offers for working adults getting their Bachelor's and actually get a degree."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"It can happen!"

"You can't force Tim to do something he doesn't want to do."

Oh believe me, I know, she thought, glancing back at her husband. It took a couple of fights between the two of them before he even admitted that he wanted to maybe take some more classes. She shamelessly waved Rue in front of his face, which finally convinced him.

Why was Jason asking her about school anyway? "You get those classes you wanted to take in New York?"

"Yeah, I did. Well on my way to getting my degree, but I still get paid more either way. Besides, Erin wants to take time off from teaching after the baby arrives, so she can bond with her and Noah too." Jason fiddled his hands on the rims of his wheelchair, looking up, smiling. "We haven't agreed on a first name, but…I was wondering if you wouldn't mind…we're going to put her middle name as Lyla."

Her heart swelled in her chest. She pressed her hand to it, her face falling. "Oh Jason." She bit her bottom lip, fighting against the onslaught of tears sure to come.

Jason chuckled. "You don't need to cry Lyla."

"I'm not crying, the baby's crying."

"Sure, sure," he teased, grinning.

"Uncle Jason!" Rue yelled from the yard, waving her hand. "Come on!"

Jason glanced sideways. "Duty calls," he said, patting her stomach. "You sit tight, let the three of us play this game."

Lyla finished wiping at her eyes, rolling them after a second, and her hands folding back over her stomach. She felt the baby move again. He was an active little dude, had been since she first felt him. It was terrifying; the day she found out she was pregnant again. Not to mention it was three days before she and Tim were set to renew their vows, in an actual wedding. They had more than ten guests, fancy chairs, an arbor, and flowers. Hell, she got a caterer and rentals and she even had the beautiful designer wedding dress that she didn't get the first time.

It was supposed to be the wedding she'd always dreamed of, that she'd never gotten and it was, to a point.

Lo and behold, she walked down that aisle pregnant again, wedding number three where she wasn't the only one walking down the aisle. She wanted to tell him the next night, when they were supposed to be in the Caribbean on their honeymoon, but nope.

Stupid Billy found the pregnancy test and rather than confront her about it, told the whole town during his best man speech that baby Garrity-Riggins #2 was on the way.

She'd been mortified, especially since she'd been wondering how to tell Tim, but the first thing Tim said wasn't out of fear or wondering about whether the baby might have the same thing Rue did, like she thought it might be, but "Damnit Garrity, do you have to be knocked up every time I marry you?"

The baby's spine was fine and he was healthy. Tim didn't want to know, but said it was a boy. She'd peeked in the doctor's file, her heart leaping in her throat when she saw that it was a boy.

Jason joined Rue and Tim outside, playing with the football in their odd little game set-up. She watched for a few minutes before she stood, waddling into the house, taking a seat at the table to finish up the scrapbook.

The very last page, she tacked two photos. She had made copies of them both, sticking them in one of those side-by-side frames and placed it on the mantle. Photography and art wasn't really her thing, but she'd given them to Matt to kind of 'doctor' up. He'd sent them back and it was perfect.

The top one was the three of them in high school. It was a few days before Jason's accident, at practice. The new cameras were around, interviewing everyone, and she'd gone over to join Jason for an interview, when the photographer told her to stand next to him. Tim had been walking by, so Jason called him over, saying this was his best friend and he had to get the three of them in the shot.

Tim was on one side, not smiling, his hair pushed back from his face, his helmet tilted up, a streak of blood running from a cut near his hairline, looking exhausted and moody. Jason was standing in the middle, grinning, one arm over Tim's shoulder, the other holding her tight to him, while she smiled politely, the perfect little cheerleader in her perfect little cheerleader outfit, complete with high ponytail, her hand on Jason's chest, but her hip cocked, holding a pom-pom.

Beneath it, she included a photo of the three of them at the vow renewal. Tim was actually smiling, holding her in his arms, her long train and dress skirt falling to the ground, revealing her cowboy boots. She had one arm around his neck, holding on, while the other fell to around Jason's shoulders, sitting in his chair in front of them, laughing.

It really showed the differences, she thought, smoothing her hand over the photos. She took a marker, writing in bubble letters (that talent had never faded, unfortunately) beneath the photos, in the caption box.

"10 Years and Counting"

"Garrity!"

She yelped, dropping the marker, her hand going to her chest, pressing against her rapidly beating heart. "God, Tim!" she yelled, seeing him smiling at her from the porch window, where he'd beat his hands hard. "What the hell!?"

"Get out here, we need a cheerleader." He cocked his head, doing that happy little smile of his, where his eyes crinkled up with his nose and the corners of his mouth. "Please? Please come out and play with us. I'll stand here forever, come out and play!"

I live with two five-year olds. She rolled her eyes, getting up from the table, while he disappeared back to Rue and Jason.

Lyla glanced back at the scrapbook. She smiled, closing the cover and setting it into the box, folding tissue paper over it and setting the lid on it. She'd wrap it later.

"Garrity, come on!"

"I'm coming!" she yelled, going outside, where Tim grabbed her around the waist, lifting her up and carrying her down the stairs. She kissed him lightly. "You're so impatient."

He lifted an eyebrow, cocking his head and lip slightly. "I waited for you, didn't I?'

Yes, you did, she thought, kissing him again. She patted his chest. "Let's go, Jason's waiting."

Jason looked up at the both of them. "It's about time, now come on, it's been two years since the three of us were together, we have a lot of catching up to do."

Not that much, she thought, smiling when Tim kissed her cheek, his fingers over her stomach. She covered his hand, glancing out of the corner of her eye to check on Rue, who was walking on her crutches, in her own little world, singing to herself. Jason was going on about the names that Erin was picking out for their new baby girl while Tim just held her close.

She closed her eyes, her head dropping to his chest.

What a difference ten years could make.

And yet still keep things the same.

**THE END**


End file.
